


the leaves talked in the twilight

by Aquila_Star



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Mpreg, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:19:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when you think you've stumbled into the wrong magic ritual...</p>
            </blockquote>





	the leaves talked in the twilight

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to stretch a bit with this fest, and the prompt did not disappoint. I'd never considered writing mpreg before, but I had some fun working it out...crazyparakiss, I hope you like it. This was beta-ed by noo, 7ofeleven and lauriegilbert, and I am SO grateful for all the help, ladies.

__  
The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;  
Hearken the tale they told:  
How in some far-off place and year,  
Before the world grew old, 

_I was a dreaming forest tree,_  
You were a wild, sweet bird  
Who sheltered at the heart of me  
Because the north wind stirred; 

_How, when the chiding gale was still,_  
When peace fell soft on fear,  
You stayed one golden hour to fill  
My dream with singing, dear. 

_To-night the self-same songs are sung_  
The first green forest heard;  
My heart and the gray world grow young—  
To shelter you, my bird.  
-Sophie Jewett 

**  
_March 29th_  
**

"Why Draco, fancy meeting you here," the voice said, dripping with condescension.

Draco cringed. He knew that voice. He'd heard it far too much for one lifetime, although he hadn't heard it in years. It seemed his luck had run out.

"Hello, Pansy," Astoria greeted, saving Draco from having to speak to her. His relationship with Pansy had peaked when they'd gone to the Yule Ball in fourth year, and it had been down hill since then. Draco had been thrilled to hear she'd married Theo Nott the year before, they deserved each other. Nott was as smug and self righteous as Pansy, not that they had anything to be smug about. It drove Draco mad.

"Astoria," Pansy replied, her tone frosty. Pansy had been furious when Draco had married Astoria, having been certain, despite Draco's blatant disdain for her, that she would win him eventually. When Draco had announced his engagement, Pansy had told him in a fit of intense rage that she would never speak to him again. He'd taken it as good news and had never looked back.

"And how are the two of you?" Pansy asked. Draco forced himself to look up at her, as politeness demanded. She hadn't changed, she was still pretty, though not strikingly so. Her supercilious expression ruined what little natural beauty she'd been blessed with, and what was left was clearly artificial. Draco shuddered, feeling a rush of gratitude toward Astoria. Besides, Pansy would have demanded fidelity from him, and that was something he was not willing to give. Astoria did not want it, for which Draco was grateful.  
"We're fine, thank you Pansy," Astoria replied cooly. She was not terribly fond of Pansy either. Just one more reason Draco liked her so much. Nott didn't say anything, he just stood behind Pansy. He gave Draco a sneer and then looked away, staring into the distance, tapping his fingers against his pant leg impatiently.

"I thought I'd stop by for a little chat," Pansy was saying. "I was curious if you had any news to share."

"News?" Astoria asked politely, but Draco could practically hear her teeth grinding. He couldn't help but smile, just a little, grateful that he'd married where he had.

"Of an impending addition," Pansy said casually.

"Are you asking if I'm pregnant?" Astoria asked, shocked at Pansy's rudeness.

"I'm only curious," Pansy said innocently. "How wonderful would it be if we were pregnant together?"

Draco's gaze shot to Pansy, who was looking smug and superior. Draco had never hated her more in his life.

Astoria glanced at Draco before responding, "Shall I assume congratulations are in order?"

"Yes, yes they are." Pansy drew herself up to her full height, puffing our her large bosom. Draco had to look away, the combination of Pansy and her breasts making him feel ill. "We will be welcoming the new addition in September," she continued.

"Congratulations," Astoria said flatly, her face a mask. Draco ground his teeth. The knowledge that Pansy bloody Parkinson (Nott, he reminded himself) would have a child first grated at his nerves and his pride.

"I so wished that you were expecting as well," Pansy mused, her tone light and casual, though Draco could feel the condescension dripping from it. "Draco and I were quite close once upon a time, weren't we Draco? My fondest wish is that our children could be as well."

"Not bloody likely," Draco said under his breath, earning a glare from Astoria.

"Alas, it seems that it's not meant to be," Pansy had schooled her features into a farce of sympathy. "Perhaps you'll be expecting by the time we have our second. If we're very lucky."

"Perhaps," Astoria replied.

"If there's anything I can do to help, please do let me know," Pansy said, pulling her husband closer and twining her arm through his. "Dear Theo and I have become quite adept at several tricks, I'd be happy to instruct you."

"I don't think so," Draco bit out. "The last thing I need to be thinking about when trying to conceive is the two of you."

"Draco," Astoria scolded, but Pansy waved a hand dismissively.

"There's no need to be insulting, Draco," she said. "I understand that your inability to conceive might make you a bit tetchy,"

"You know nothing about our abili...personal business," Draco snarled.

"Oh, I know enough," Pansy said with a laugh. "Enough to to know you probably can't get it up for..."

"That's enough Pansy," Nott said, taking her arm. "Good day Draco, Astoria." He tried to lead his wife away, but Pansy resisted.

"Good luck knocking her up, Draco," she called out as Nott began to drag her away. "You'd have better luck with her brother, or him with you!"

Draco winced as Pansy's voice carried across the road, gaining the attention of everyone there, if only for a moment. They turned back to their business once Nott had apparated her away, but Draco was still stung. How did she now?

"I'm sorry Draco," Astoria said, laying a hand on his arm. He shook her off, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath.

"Don't apologize for her, she's beyond help," Draco said. Astoria slipped her arm through his, encouraging him to move. They walked slowly down the alley, the silence between them not quite comfortable. Pansy's words still stung, all the more because Draco knew they were true. All his life he'd wanted a family, but it had never occurred to him just how much of an obstacle his preferences would be. He'd always thought he could overcome it in order to conceive a child, but he couldn't. No matter how hard he tried, how many 'tricks', he was met with failure. To make matters worse, any useful potions came with side effects that worked in opposition to his purpose in taking it.

He had to think of something, and fast. He was more than ready to start a family, and Astoria was getting rather impatient, not that he could blame her. Despite her assertions, this was his problem, and he had to fix it. Soon.

**  
_April 24th_  
**

“This is a bad idea,” Astoria said skeptically, shaking her head at her husband. “It'll never work.”

"Of course it will,” Draco insisted. “It has to work.”

"Yes, because your half baked plans are always successful, aren't they?” Astoria smiled sweetly in response to Draco's glare, wrinkling her brow as she took the dusty parchment that Draco was handing her. She held it as daintily as possible, away from her fine robes and with the minimum of fingers required to grip it.

“It's nothing to worry about, I've got it all figured out,” Draco replied. "It has to work...if it doesn't...”

"If it doesn't, you're going to have to find yourself another wife, Draco,” Astoria interrupted. “I only agreed to marry you for two reasons, your...”

Draco interrupted her this time. “Yes, yes, my money and a baby, I'm well aware.” He sighed, slumping uncharacteristically in his chair. “It'll work, I promise.”

“I hope it does. I like it here. I like you. You've truly become my best friend, Draco, but I want a child, and if you can't give me one, then our agreement is off.”

"I didn't exactly plan this, did I?” Draco snapped. He leapt to his feet and began to pace the room. “How was I to know when I married you that I...that I couldn't...” He stopped pacing and collapsed into another chair.

"I know, I'm sorry,” Astoria said softly, rising gracefully and moving across the room to kneel in front of him.

"It's not your fault,” Draco said, taking her hand. “It's mine.”

"I don't blame you,” she said softly. She gave his hand a squeeze. He turned his head away, unwilling to meet her sincere gaze. She continued, “I don't want to leave, you know. I care for you very much. Your mother as well. But I need to have a baby. Just one. I'd rather lose the money, you know.”

"Lose the money? It's serious, then?”

"Draco, be serious. This is not a game.”

"I do know,” Draco said, taking her hand between his own and rubbing it gently. “And I need an heir. But if you leave me I'll have to start over again. And I doubt there's a woman in Britain who could make me...perform.”

"I'm sorry,” Astoria repeated. “Let's give it a try. It can't hurt and if it doesn't work...we'll deal with that when the time comes.”

"Thank you,” Draco said, meeting her eyes at last with a weak smile. She smiled back, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the cheek.

**  
_May 1st_  
**

"Astoria, a moment, please.”

Astoria took a deep breath and then turned to face her mother in law. “Narcissa, I'd love to chat, but I'm rather in a hurry, and I...”

“You are going to Uisneach Hill to meet Draco, are you not?” Narcissa asked casually.

“I am,” Astoria answered without thinking.

“Don't look so surprised,” Narcissa replied. “Draco believes his little plan is a secret, of course, but then, he has always thought he was successful in keeping things from me. However, I'm well aware of the plan, and I will not try to stop you.”

“Thank you,” Astoria said, eyes wide with surprise.

“I only wanted to give you this,” Narcissa handed over a small figurine. It was a carving of a woman, faceless and heavy with child. “It's a fertility charm, not very powerful, but it does contain enough magic to help you along. I used it when we were attempting to conceive.”

“Thank you,” Astoria said again. “Every little bit helps, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” Narcissa agreed. “Now don't keep my son waiting. He has no patience with anything that doesn't conform to his expectations.”

“I'm well aware,” Astoria said with a smile before turning to go. Draco was sure to be impatient by now, and getting more so by the minute.

*

Astoria was definitely late by the time she arrived at the hill. The apparition point was on the opposite side of the festivities from where Draco was waiting to perform the ritual. She cursed under her breath and began to wind her way across, past Wizard revellers, as well as Muggles, past entwined couples and rowdy groups at various stages in their cups. The crowd was rather thick and she had to push her way through at points.

Finally the crowd thinned as she was nearing the ritual site. She was in the clear, until a broad-shouldered form burst out of a group and knocked her over.

“I'm so sorry,” it...he said. “Are you alright?” Strong hands took hers and tugged her to her feet.

“I'm fine, thank you,” she said, finding herself face to face with Harry Potter.

“I'm terribly sorry, are you sure you're...”

Astoria interrupted, “I'm sure, thank you again.” She pulled back and dusted herself off. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm in a bit of a rush.”

“Oh, right, don't let me keep you,” he said, taking a step back as well. “Sorry about the,” he waved a hand between them.

“It's no matter. Good evening Mr. Potter.” She smiled at him and turned to leave. She was very late now, Draco would be...displeased. To say the least.

She finally made it to the ritual site, pulling her outer robes off and dropping them in a heap outside the circle of stones. Inside was a triangle drawn in sand, ground from the same stones which formed the circle. It was supposed to represent the melding of the parents to form a new life. Astoria thought it was ridiculous, but who was she to question the magic? If it helped her conceive, she would do it. Becoming pregnant the old-fashioned way was not going to work.

'Draco has a better chance of getting Harry Potter pregnant than me,' she mused as she stepped into the circle.

“There you are!” Draco exclaimed, abruptly pushing a goblet of potion into her hand. He was standing on one point of the triangle, while Astoria took her place on another. The third point was for the baby they would hopefully conceive.

They were to stand on their points while Astoria drank the potion and Draco incanted the spell. The spell in conjunction with the potion was to be performed at midnight on Beltane night, on the Hill to multiply the forces of magic. Astoria had her doubts, but she would do what she had to, if it would get her a baby.

“I'm sorry, I was knocked over by...never mind,” Astoria bit her lip. If Draco knew who had knocked her over, he would not be able to let it go. They had been out of school for five years, but sometimes Astoria wondered if Draco had moved on at all. And sometimes she was sure he hadn't.

“Alright, it's time. Let's do this.” Draco lifted his wand and began the intricate movements, incanting the spell as Astoria lifted the goblet to her lips. And that's when it happened.

Harry Potter burst through the underbrush and right into the circle, tripping over Astoria's robes and knocking into her for the second time that evening. The potion splattered both of them with globs of lavender just as Draco finished his spell.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean...” Potter began, but Draco interrupted him.

“Potter, what the fuck?” he exclaimed, taking a step toward them, but the spell was already working. They were surrounded by a swirl of white mist, which coalesced into a ribbon and wound around Draco before travelling across the triangle to Astoria and Potter. It split into two ribbons and whipped around them twice, gaining speed before moving across the triangle again to the empty point where the ribbons swirled into twin tornadoes and disappeared into the night sky.

The three of them stood looking up where they had vanished, too shocked to say anything for a few moments.

“What was that?” Potter asked in a quiet voice.

“Nothing, Potter,” Draco said, stalking across the circle. “It was nothing.” He glared at Harry, crossing his arms.

“You're lying Malfoy,” Potter insisted, glaring at Draco in return. Astoria took a step back, out of the blast range, flicking her wand to remove the potion that had splattered on her.

“And you're sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong!” Draco took a step forward, dropping his clenched fists to his side. “Apparently nothing has changed.”

“Apparently not, as you're still up to no good! What just happened here, Malfoy?” Potter demanded. “What are you up to?”

“That's none of your business, you meddling Gryffindor! Go back to your weasels and root around in the muck. Leave us alone.”

“Why do you have to be such an arse, Malfoy?” Potter took a step closer to Draco, his eyes flashing with green fury. “Why can't you just answer the question?”

“Why can't you mind your own business for once? You're not an Auror and we didn't do anything wrong!"

“They why not tell me what you did? That spell affected me too!”

Draco scoffed. “It won't do anything to you Potter, you're not its type. Besides, it's your own fault for stumbling in where you aren't invited.”

“I came to return this,” Potter said, holding up the fertility figurine. He turned to Astoria and passed it to her.

“Well, now that you've brought it back, you can leave. I've had enough of you to last a lifetime,” Draco spat.

“The feeling is very mutual, Malfoy.” He turned to Astoria and gave her a small smile. “I'm sorry again for knocking you over. Good luck with this prat.”

“Watch your mouth Potter, or I'll spell it shut. Permanently!” Draco threatened.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry said. “And if there's any side effects of this...whatever it was, I'll come after you, and after I've broken your snotty face, I'll hex away all your poncy hair. Permanently,” he added, mimicking Draco's accent.

He turned and stalked out of the circle, leaving Astoria with a fuming Draco.

**  
_May 23rd_  
**

Astoria woke up, stretched, got out of bed and promptly dashed for the loo, before vomiting most ungracefully into the toilet. Once she was done she rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth before taking a deep breath and performing a simple spell. A spell to test for pregnancy.

The results were immediate and definitively positive. She smiled widely and pulled on her dressing gown, and then made her way to Draco's suite.

She knocked hesitantly on the door, hoping that Draco had not invited anyone home the previous night. She wasn't bothered by his so-called infidelity, after all, their marriage was more like a business arrangement than anything else. It certainly wasn't a love match.

Fortunately, Draco called out for her to enter immediately after she knocked. She entered, unsurprised to find Draco still in bed, propped up against the headboard and sipping tea.

“Astoria? What is it?”

“I have some news...are those apple cinnamon muffins?” she asked, bracing herself against the wall to battle another wave of nausea.

“Yes, they're lovely this morning,” Draco said, putting down his tea and picking one up, holding it out to her. “Would you like one?”

Astoria swallowed heavily before taking a deep breath. Through her mouth to avoid the spicy scent of cinnamon. “No thank you,” she said. “They are making me ill.”

“Ill?” Draco pushed his tray aside, then his duvet, and left the bed, moving to her side. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong, in fact, everything is right.” Astoria smiled at him.

“I don't understand,” Draco said, taking her hand.

“I'm pregnant,” she said simply.

“You...you're,” he stuttered, staring at her in awe. “It worked?”

“It worked,” Astoria confirmed. Draco let out a very unmanly squeak and wrapped his arms around her, picking her up and spinning her in a circle.

“Draco, put me down, please,” she pleaded. “Or I'll throw up all over your pyjamas.”

Draco put her down immediately and took two steps back for good measure. Then he took her hands in his and beamed at her.

“It really worked,” he said again, in whisper.

“I think we've already been over that,” Astoria said, smiling weakly at him.

“Yes, but I...” he trailed off.

“I know, I can barely believe it myself.”

Draco pulled her toward the bed, sitting down and tugging her beside him. “We have so much to do. You'll need to see the midwife, and we'll have to tell Mother, and...”

“Draco, I'd be more than happy to discuss this all with you, but could you please get rid of those muffins?” she swallowed heavily again.

Draco laughed, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek before vanishing the muffins.

“Right then,” he said, still beaming. “Let's talk.”

**  
_June 18th_  
**

The following weeks had passed quickly for Draco and Astoria. An appointment with the midwife had confirmed Astoria's spell. A baby had been conceived on Beltane night as planned, and was developing normally.

Telling their families was the best part. Draco had told his mother on his own birthday, after they had been to the midwife. Narcissa had been ecstatic, hugging them both fiercely before beginning to chatter about all the things that needed to be done in preparation for the baby's arrival.

“Like mother, like son,” Astoria whispered to Draco before jumping into the planning with her mother in law.

Telling Astoria's family was just as crazy, as both her mother and her sister had the same enthusiasm for planning as Narcissa. Draco was excited as well, but his excitement had been dampened by all the feminine uproar.

He was still ecstatic about his growing child, and fascinated by it's development. At six weeks the foetus was still tiny, but it was strong, according to the midwife. The ritual had worked, Astoria was pregnant and without Draco having any...intimate contact with...girl bits. Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought, then quickly put it out of his mind. It had worked, and that was all that mattered.

His pondering was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a house elf. “Master Draco, there is a man here to see you,” Plinky said, bowing low.

“The man of my dreams, no doubt,” Draco muttered to himself, wondering who it could be.

“Sir?” the elf asked, but Draco just waved a hand in dismissal.

“Nothing,” he said. “See him in please, Plinky.”

Plinky bowed and vanished. A moment later the door was thrown open with such force that it smashed against the wall, denting the plaster. A fuming Harry Potter stormed into the room, his magic crackling palpably around him.

“What the fuck did you do to me, Malfoy!” he exclaimed, stalking up to Draco and giving him a shove.

Draco fell back into his chair, shocked by the outburst, as well as the visitor.

“I can think of a few dozen things I'd love to do with you,” Draco yelled back, standing up once more and giving Potter a shove in return. “I drew up a list in second year, and I've been adding to it since then, would you like to see it?”

“This is no time for jokes,” Potter spat, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at Draco. “Whatever you did, I want you to undo it! Now!”

“I didn't do anything, you idiot!” Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. “I have no idea what you are talking about! Whatever it is, you can't blame it on me, you stupid Gryffindor!”

“Oh yes I can!” Potter said, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. It was not an improvement on the screeching of before. It made the hair on Draco's arms stand on end. He rubbed them nervously.

“I knew you were up to something! You always are,” Potter was raving again, his voice raised and his arms gesturing madly. “I should have made you tell me what you'd done, then you could have undone it then.”

“What are you on about, you great arse?” Draco said. “I haven't even seen you since Belta...” Suddenly the world faded away, squeezing out every thing but him and Potter and the memory of the fertility potion, splattered across Potter and Astoria as they stood together on one point of the triangle while Draco finished the spell.

And Astoria was pregnant. Oh, fuck.

*

As it turned out, Potter was indeed pregnant. And furious. They spent the next few hours arguing about it, and Potter had left in as much a fury as he'd arrived in. He'd been gone for over an hour now, and Draco was still shocked.

Apparently the ritual had worked too well. Potter had conceived at the same moment that Astoria did, which explained the dual ribbons that had resulted from the ritual. Draco was astounded. Not only did the ritual work...it _really_ worked.

“Draco?” Astoria called, waving her wand to illuminate the room. “Plinky told me that Harry Potter was here. Has he gone? What did he want?”

Draco looked up at her, his face devoid of all expression. “Yes, he's gone,” he answered quietly. His manner was remarkably calm, and it was in complete odds with how he was feeling.

“What did he have to say?” Astoria asked.

“He, uhh,” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. How does one tell his pregnant wife that their unborn child, a singleton, would have sibling. A step sibling. A step sibling being carried by a man. Draco was confused, bewildered and...well, he didn't know what he was.

“Draco? Are you in there?” Astoria waved an elegant hand in front of his face.

“What?” Draco jerked back into reality, looking at Astoria in confusion.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You don't look well. What did Potter have to say?”

“He, uhh...”

“Yes, you've already said _that_ ,” Astoria crossed her arms over her bosom.

Draco looked up at her with wild eyes. "I'm starting to sound like him," he breathed. He looked up and said, "I'm sorry, I think...I think I'm in shock,”

Astoria sat down on the arm of his chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Draco took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, hoping to gain some strength. For the first time, Draco wished for a moment that he'd been a Gryffindor. And then he promptly wished he could obliviate himself.

“He came to tell me, uhh, to tell us,” he paused, still unsure how to go on. He took another deep breath. “He's pregnant.” Finally, the words came, honest and unadultered.

“He's what?” Astoria's voice was more than a little screechy, and Draco winced.

“He's pregnant,” Draco repeated.

“I don't understand,” Astoria said, sounding like Draco felt.

“Neither do I,” Draco said, sighing. “But you saw what happened when he stumbled into the ritual, the bumbling ape.”

“I remember,” Astoria shook her head in amazement. Silence fell between them, as they both tried to absorb the information.

Finally, Astoria broke the silence. “Well, there is a bright side.”

Draco looked up at her. “What could possibly be bright about Harry Potter carrying my child?”

“Well,” she said, arching a pale brow. “At least the plan worked.”

Draco stared at her in shock before bursting into peals of laughter. Astoria joined him, unable to contain the hysteria.

Finally the laughter subsided, and Draco pulled Astoria into his lap, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you,” he said softly, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I needed that.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don't know,” Draco responded. “What should I do?”

Astoria sighed, running her hands through his fine hair. “Get to know him.”

“What?” Draco pulled back, scoffing at her. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Draco, regardless of how you feel about him, the man is carrying your child. You're stuck with him for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not. We both are.”

“That doesn't mean I have to like him,” Draco huffed.

“As a matter of fact, it does,” Astoria insisted. “You will be co-parenting with him. We all will, together. Our children will be raised together. We'll have to come to consensus about their upbringing, education, everything. How are we going to accomplish that if the two of you cannot be in the same room without throwing curses and insults?”

“The idea is ludicrous,” Draco exclaimed, thrusting Astoria off his lap and pacing around the room. “Potter is a self righteous, attention seeking, dimwitted ape. I despise him and I always will.”

“Draco,” Astoria stalked him across the room, halting his motions with a hand on his shoulder. “You have to try.”

“No,” he exclaimed. “I can't. Don't make me.”

“I can't make you do anything, but you know it's the right thing to do.”

“He's insufferable.” Draco shrugged her hand off.

“Perhaps. But he's also the father of your child. Or, the mother, I don't know how this works exactly.”

Draco scoffed at her attempt to lighten his mood. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“I can't help it. The situation demands it,” she said, smirking at him.

“Well, I won't argue with that,” he said with an eye roll.

“We have to work it out Draco.”

He sighed, turning and slumping against her in defeat. “Fine,” he agreed. “I'll owl him in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Astoria said. “We'll work it out, you'll see. We'll do it together.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “You're the best friend I've ever had, you know.”

“I know,” she said, kissing his hair and smiling. “The feeling is mutual.”

**  
_June 19th_  
**

Harry woke suddenly, the remnants of a vivid dream already fading. It was quickly forgotten in the rush to the toilet, where he lost what was left of his dinner.

After a thorough tooth brushing and a splash of water on his face, he felt much more human. However, he also still felt pregnant. Queasy, exhausted and tender...he had definitely felt better. He was still in a state of shock. He'd never heard of men getting pregnant before, by magic or otherwise. On the other hand, there was plenty of things he hadn't heard of before Hagrid rescued him from the Dursley's.

Still, the idea that he was pregnant, with Draco Malfoy's baby no less, was difficult to accept. If it weren't for the midwife's assurances that he was indeed pregnant, he would assume he'd been put under a spell.

He scoffed at that...he was under a spell, so to speak. According to Hermione and her ever present research, it was a very powerful and ancient spell created for those who were unable to conceive by other means. Harry couldn't help but wonder why Draco and Astoria Malfoy needed such a spell to conceive. As much as it pained him to admit it, they were both attractive people.

He wasn't sure he wanted to find out, but he realized he likely would. As unwanted and unexpected as the event was, the fact remained that he was having a baby with Draco Malfoy.

He was attempting to sip some very weak peppermint tea when a large, regal looking owl tapped on the window. He untied a scroll stamped with an elaborate 'M' before giving the owl a treat. It didn't leave however, instead it settled on the sill and seemed to be waiting for a response.

“Typical,” Harry muttered under his breath. Malfoy would insist on an immediate response, clearly not happy with letting Harry answer in his own time. He shook his head in exasperation as he opened it and read.

> ~~Scarhead~~ ~~Potter~~ Harry,
> 
> ~~Astoria insists~~ I must apologize for my behavior last night. Your ~~unwanted~~ unexpected visit came as...quite a surprise. As did your news.
> 
> I'm willing to accept culpability, though if you hadn't ~~bumbled in like an overgrown ape~~ ~~stuck your nose in where it doesn't~~ followed Astoria, it would never have happened.
> 
> We need to talk. Please come to the Manor today for tea so we can discuss ~~this fiasco you've embroiled us in~~ our situation. Please respond by return owl.
> 
> Draco Malfoy.

Harry sighed, crumpling the parchment in his hand. Damn Draco Malfoy. That arrogant, snotty, pretentious wanker. Despite his implications, it wasn't Harry's fault. If Malfoy hadn't been unable to impregnate his wife the old fashioned way, instead of performing a powerful and dangerous ritual in public, this never would have happened.

Harry felt a wave of pure anger rush over him. It was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to. He'd been in a near constant state of fury since the midwife had diagnosed him and he'd put two and two together. Malfoy's reaction only made it worse. He had been utterly unapologetic and downright belligerent about Harry's situation. He was the cause of it, after all, Harry fumed.

He continued fuming for almost a half an hour, pausing once to vomit the small amount of tea he'd managed to ingest, before scribbling a response and sending it away with Malfoy's owl. He might regret this. No, he _would_ regret this. But Malfoy was the father of his baby.

“Merlin, this is ridiculous,” Harry muttered angrily to himself. Ridiculous it might be, but that certainly didn't change the fact. He would meet with Malfoy. No matter the result.

*

Harry arrived at Malfoy Manor in an only slightly better mood than he had been in the last time he'd been there. He couldn't imagine that this meeting would end any better, but he had to try. For his baby.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, then stopped again and shook his head. There were times when the situation was still so bizarre, so surreal that Harry had trouble taking it all in. He turned around again, forcing himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other until he was pulling the bell.

Malfoy was waiting for him in the same room he'd been in the night before. Harry stood just inside the door, unsure what to say and unwilling to break the silence.

“Potter,” Malfoy said finally, after they'd spent a few long moments avoiding each other's eyes.

“Malfoy,” he responded simply, nodding his head.

“Tea?” Malfoy asked, snapping his fingers for the waiting house elf.

“Uh, sure,” Harry said awkwardly, never having envisioned a time when he'd be taking tea with Malfoy. He shuffled forward and took the seat that Malfoy gestured to. They sat across the table from each other, in silence again. Neither of them wanted to begin.

After Plinky had laid the table with tea, sandwiches and cakes, Malfoy finally spoke up.

“I'm...sorry for my reaction last night,” he stated, pouring tea for Harry as well as himself.

“Oh, uh,” Harry stuttered, swallowing his annoyance and nervousness. “That's okay. You were an arse, but so was I, I think."

“Yes, you were,” Malfoy said. Harry's head shot up, meeting Malfoy's eyes for the first time since he'd entered the room.

“I can hardly be blamed for that!” Harry snapped, wondering for the millionth time why Malfoy made him so bloody angry.

Malfoy scoffed. “If you kept your nose out of other people's business, things like this wouldn't happen,” he said.

“I wasn't sticking my...no. I won't go there.” Harry took a deep breath, “Besides, these things have a way of happening to me, even if I manage to mind my own business.” He took a sip of his tea. “Why were you there, anyway? This wouldn't have happened if you'd done it somewhere less public, you realise.”

“I know that, Potter, I'm not an idiot,” Malfoy snapped.

“If you say so,” Harry muttered under his breath, earning himself a cold glare.

“The Hill possesses ancient power, and all the...fornication going on also contributed to the spell. It could have been performed somewhere else, but I wasn't going to take any chances.”

Harry nodded, nibbling the edge of a sandwich, desperately hoping he'd be able to keep it down. Puking here at the Manor was an humiliation he wasn't eager to experience.

“Why?”

Malfoy looked up, his brow crinkled. “Excuse me?”

“Why did you do it? It's rather drastic, I mean,” Harry said, placing his cup carefully in the saucer, breathing deeply through another wave of nausea.

“I have my reasons,” Malfoy replied, pointedly looking into his cup.

“I think I have a right to know,” Harry said sharply. “It affects me rather directly, don't you think?”

“It's none of your business, Potter,” Malfoy bit out, all but throwing his cup into the saucer.

“It is,” Harry insisted.

“It's not,” Malfoy insisted right back.

“What's the problem, Malfoy?” Harry asked. “Can't get it up for the missus?” Harry smirked.

Malfoy shot out of his chair, striding across the room, his back a poker straight line and faced definitively away from Harry. “Fuck off, Potter,” he snapped over his shoulder.

“I can't really do that, now can I?” Harry all but shouted back. “You've fucked me already!”

Malfoy spun around, eyes blazing. “If I fucked you, you'd damn well know it!” he yelled.

Harry blinked. He'd just been fishing for insults, but that one seemed to have hit close to home. Was Malfoy really gay? The idea made something in Harry's stomach twist and his pulse race, but before he could figure out what the was all about, his stomach protested, rejecting the tea.

He lurched out of his chair, searching frantically for a pot, a plant, anything that he could use. He'd rather die than vomit on Malfoy's no doubt ancient and priceless rug.

He was saved the indignity however, when Astoria Malfoy swept into the room bearing a ceramic bucket. She handed it to him and gave him a shove, seating him back in his chair. Not a moment too soon apparently. As soon as Harry's arse hit the seat he was vomiting up tea and bread into the bucket, heaving until there was nothing left but a sick taste in his mouth.

He came back to himself and realized that someone was petting his hair, murmuring soft words of comfort and encouragement. He blinked away tears, looking up into Astoria's warm blue eyes.

“What was that, Potter?” Malfoy demanded from over her shoulder. Harry looked up further, catching the sneer of revulsion on Malfoy's face. He looked back down at Astoria, murmuring a quiet 'thank you.'

Astoria stood and turned to face her husband. “What do you think that was, Draco? He's just as pregnant as I am, isn't he? It's bound to be even harder on him, not being made for it and all.”

“If you say so,” Malfoy scoffed.

Harry tried to bite back his retort, but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“It's your evil spawn that's doing this to me, Malfoy,” he spat, glaring daggers into Malfoy's eyes. “No wonder my body is rejecting it.”

“Stop!” Astoria yelled, glaring at both of them in turn. “I won't have this anymore. You are both grown men, now start acting like it.” She looked down at Harry. “Despite the accidental nature of this...situation, that baby inside you is half Malfoy. And you're stuck with it, and us, so you'd best make the most of it.”

Harry blushed and averted his eyes from Malfoy's triumphant smirk.

“And you,” Astoria continued, turning to face Malfoy. “You're even worse. Harry may have stumbled on us at the worst possible time, but he was only trying to return the figurine. He didn't deserve to have this happen to him, but it did. I will not allow you to make this any harder on him with your childish attitude. We are going to have to find a way to make this work, despite your mutual animosity. Is that understood?”

Malfoy had paled under the weight of her scolding, and nodded jerkily, his eyes downcast.

“Good. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” She snapped her fingers, summoning a house elf to take away the bucket Harry was still clutching, then poured him a glass of cool water infused with peppermint. It tasted heavenly and settled his stomach. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sit down, Draco,” Astoria commanded, sitting herself in his chair. “Let's start with you, Harry. How are you coping with this?”

Harry took a deep breath, ignored Malfoy, and told her.

*

Two hours later, Astoria had managed to prevent Harry and Draco from coming to blows, had established a schedule of meetings, so they could 'get to know each other better' and had insisted that Draco accompany Harry to his midwife's appointments. Her skill at managing Malfoy and his reactions was fascinating to Harry, the fact that they had resorted to the ritual combined with Malfoy's assertion to Harry earlier had him utterly confused.

He had considered that Malfoy may be gay, hence the need for a ritual so that Astoria could conceive, but their easy intimacy threw that theory into doubt. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think.

What he did know was that he'd be sitting through dinner with them the very next night. He sighed, dropping heavily onto his couch. He had seen more Malfoys in the past two days than he had in the six years since he'd left school. And this was just the beginning.

**  
_June 29th_  
**

“Come in, Harry,” Astoria said, waving him to a seat at the rather large and ostentatious table, set for three, complete with candles and what seemed like more cutlery than Harry had in his kitchen.

“Please, be seated,” she continued, so Harry did.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said politely, shooting a glance at Malfoy, who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed.

“You are very welcome,” Astoria replied, glaring at her husband for a moment before sitting down across from him. Draco resignedly took his seat at the head of the table, shaking out his napkin with more force than was strictly necessary.

“It is important that we get to know each other better,” she continued, ignoring Draco.

“I suppose it is,” Harry said, as the room filled with a small army of house elves who began serving the main course. Dinner passed with very little conflict, an occurrence that could be attributed to the fact that Malfoy had barely said three words together. It wasn't until dessert was brought out that the conversation turned to more serious matters.

“Have you given any thought to the child's upbringing?” Astoria asked suddenly. Harry stilled, his fork halfway to his mouth and looked up at her in surprise.

“Well, not really,” he said, glancing at Malfoy, who was, stabbing his trifle as if it had done him a personal wrong. “Isn't it a little early for that?”

“Oh, it's never too early,” Astoria assured him. “Draco and I have already discussed it, and we feel that it would be best if the child came to live with us at the Manor, where it could be raised along with our son.”

Harry gaped at her, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clank. “You...what?”

Malfoy scoffed and threw his fork down as well. “We want to raise them together Potter, or is that too much for you to understand? There should be no reason why we can't avoid the subject of it's...conception altogether, and raise both children as siblings.”

“Twins,” Astoria clarified. “We realize that this little...accident was our fault, so we'd like to make it as painless as possible for you.”

“I don't understand,” Harry said, resolutely ignoring Malfoy's scoff. “When you say, raise them as twins, do you mean, without me?”

“Of course we mean without you, you dim-witted twit,” Malfoy spat out.

“Draco!” Astoria scolded. “It...well, perhaps he could have phrased it more...politely, but yes, that is what we are proposing. There is no reason for your life to be disrupted, and we would be thrilled to have more than one child. It's doubtful that we'll ever have another one, so this seemed the perfect solution.”

“Oh, I see,” Harry snarled. “You get another baby, and you get me out of your lives for good. What kind of man do you take me for?”

“I was hoping you were a sensible one,” Astoria said, taken aback.

“Well, I'm not,” Harry hissed, ignoring Malfoy's snort. “This is one big fuck up that wasn't my fault and has nothing to do with me, except that it happened, to me. And now that I've got it, I'll be damned if I'll give up this baby. I probably won't ever get another chance, and even if I did, I would never deny it!” he exclaimed.

“I told you he couldn't be reasoned with,” Draco said to Astoria, who shook her head, her eyes wide at Harry's outburst.

“Reasoned with? You honestly thought you'd be able to convince me to give up my child? I grew up without parents, yet you still expected me to deny a child of my own blood? Are you insane?”

“Well, how do you propose we raise it, then?” Malfoy asked, standing and leaning against the table, his eyes flashing at Harry, a look very reminiscent of their school days.

“I'm keeping it! I'll be honest, and tell it how it was conceived, and that you're the other father...and I'll let it visit when it's older, but I'm raising my child. Me.” Harry stood up as well, glaring daggers at Malfoy, who glared daggers right back.

“Alone? No child of mine will be raised by a single parent, Potter,” Malfoy spit his name out as if it were poison. “You may be that low class, but we are not!”

“Low class? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before performing your stupid ritual in public! Besides, I don't care what you think, I'll raise this child on my own.”

“Please, I'm sure we can come to an agreement that would satisfy us all,” Astoria said, attempting to defuse the situation. It was too late, though.

“You will not!” Malfoy declared imperiously. “Astoria and I will raise it as our son's twin and that's final.”

“You can go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry spat at him. “You won't get within 50 feet of _my_ child if I can avoid it. You can count on it!”

With that, Harry pushed his chair back so hard that it clattered to the ground and then stalked out of the room, his errant magic causing the pictures on the walls to shimmer in his wake. He didn't care if he destroyed the lot. Malfoy Manor could go up in flames for all he cared.

*

Draco slammed the door to his suite, rattling the picture frames on his wall, much like the ones in the dining room had rattled at Potter's departure. He paced around the room, wanting to throw something, to smash something, to break _something_ to dispel his anger. Potter had never failed to bring out the worst in him and tonight was no exception.

Draco dropped back onto his bed as exhaustion overtook him at last. Potter was as annoying, superior and sanctimonious as ever. But despite his stubborn insistence that he would deny Draco access to the child, he was also rather attractive. It was a fact which had not passed Draco's notice, though it only served to make him angrier. Being attracted to Potter was a humiliation he could not bear.

The thing is, he was having a hard time denying it, even to himself. Sure, the prat made him want to draw his wand, or even make a fist, and anything more than a few moments in his presence pushed Draco to the edge of his patience. Underneath that, desire was lurking, ready to pop out at the most inopportune time. If only he could remove Potter's obnoxious personality, just leaving the fine body and handsome face.

Yes, that's it. Remove the personality, then Potter would be accommodating and pliable. And less likely to talk back. He'd be totally pleasant and unresisting and...and Draco was bored just thinking about it. Apparently removing the personality was not a solution.

What do you do when the one person you've always hated above all others turns into someone you're attracted to, more attracted than you've been in a long time? Someone who would be much less attractive if they were more likeable?

“Argh!” Draco exclaimed, pushing up off the bed and pacing to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and turned on the shower, wanting to wash these confusing, contradictory thoughts away.

He'd come to realize that Astoria was right. Accidental though this odd pregnancy might be, it was still his child and he intended to care for it. He would have to convince Potter that they could share the responsibility of raising the child, without killing each other. Hopefully.

Besides, he doubted that Astoria would be willing to go through another ritual. She had insisted on a baby as part of their marriage contract and he doubted she would agree to another if they had to resort to the ritual to conceive. As the years went by, he was assured that it would be less and less likely that he would ever be able to get it up for her, without some kind of stimulant. They had tried those of course, but they all had damaging affects on his sperm, or so the texts had said. Draco believed them.

He'd always wanted more than one child. In weaker moments he'd found himself envying the Weasleys. Not their poverty or boisterousness, of course, but their productivity. He disdained them for producing so many children that they could barely afford to support, but he had long dreamed of having a baby sister. Now that he was an adult, he dreamed of a family, himself with some nameless, faceless man, the two of them in love and surrounded by children. Three or four, at least, he could well afford them.

The reality was very different. Same sex partnerships were frowned upon and quite rare. Such proclivities were spoken of quietly and never broadcast. Draco didn't even know of any other wizards or witches who preferred their own sex. He sighed, ducking under the shower spray and staying there as long as he could stand it. A hot shower and a wank was just what he needed to loosen up. He'd never sleep otherwise. Bloody Potter.

He washed his hair quickly, then soaped up his body, letting his hands wander a bit to encourage his arousal. Not that it needed any encouragement. Perpetually horny was a defining characteristic of being male and despite being gay, he was certainly a man.

He closed his eyes, bringing forth a vision of the same faceless man who populated his fantasies. The broad shoulders, lean muscles and generous cock. The capable hands that clung to him as he slid his cock into a firm, perfect arse. He moaned, squeezing and stroking, he could almost feel the muscular clenches of his partner's channel. He sped up, in reality and fantasy, his mind taking him across flat planes of stomach, to tight pecs and a strong neck.

He was so close, so close, he squeezed harder, leaning down in his mind for a kiss, focusing on red, damp lips and green, green eyes.

“Ungh,” he groaned, losing himself in the fantasy, knowing he would hate himself after coming down. But he didn't care.

Once his orgasm had subsided, he leaned against the cold tiles and panted, trying to erase the vision of Potter, sweaty, sated Potter with the blissed out green eyes and the hair as wild as his temperament.

“I am so fucked,” he whispered to himself.

**  
_July 6th_  
**

Harry sighed, looking at his watch once more and trying not to lose his patience. Malfoy was late. Not that he was surprised, the prat didn't seem to care about anyone but himself. What did it matter if he made Harry late for his appointment? Astoria may have wrung a promise out of him, but that didn't mean he would keep it.

It had taken plenty of reluctant apologies before Harry was willing to let Malfoy back in. He had agreed that Harry could raise the child at his home, and that Draco would be allowed visitation. After the first few years, when the child was old enough, though they had yet to agree on just how old that was, it would be allowed visits to the Manor, to get to know not only Draco, but Astoria and their son. They had decided to learn the sex of their baby, but Harry was determined that for him, it would be a surprise. Malfoy had not been pleased, to say the least.

“Dammit, Malfoy,” he muttered angrily.

“Thinking about me, Potter?”

Harry spun around, relieved and angry all at once to see Draco Malfoy smirking that infuriating smirk at him.

“You're late!” he accused, turning away from Malfoy's smug face and stalking toward the lift that would take them to the midwife's office.

“I was held up at work,” Malfoy said, catching up in time to enter the lift smoothly, cutting Harry off in the process. “I know it might be hard for a layabout like you to understand, but some of us actually take their jobs seriously.”

“I work,” Harry lied defensively, following Malfoy through the doors.

“Sorry to break it to you Potter, but there's no such thing as a 'Professional Gryffindor',” Malfoy drawled. “Although,” he turned to look Harry up and down, “If there was, you'd be it.”

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry said, looking the other way with a clenched jaw.

“We've been over that,” Malfoy said in that infuriatingly smooth voice. “I thought we agreed that if I ever fucked you, you'd know.”

Thankfully, the lift doors choose that moment to open, saving Harry from having to formulate a response to Malfoy's provocative statement. His cheeks has taken the opportunity to turn bright red and anything that came out of his mouth was sure to compound his humiliation.

He walked down the hall quickly, knocking twice before going in.

“Harry, I'm glad you could make it,” Katie Bell said, gesturing for Harry to take a seat. He could feel the tension mount when Malfoy entered, the click of the door like a slam in Harry's ears.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Katie said stiffly, gesturing to the seat next to Harry's. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Miss Bell,” Malfoy said, sitting gingerly in the chair. “I'm...glad to be here.”

“I'm sure you are,” Katie replied wryly. “And it's Katie, if you don't mind.”

“If you like,” Malfoy replied. Katie looked at him coldly for a moment before turning to look at Harry.

“Harry, how are you feeling?” she asked, smiling at him.

“I...fine, really,” he said. “Except that I can't eat, because everything just comes right back up again. Oh, and I can't sleep, even though I've never been so exhausted in my life. I hurt all over and I can't get comfortable.”

“The potion didn't help the nausea?”

“Nausea? Oh no,” Harry scoffed. “Nausea implies an unsettled stomach, oh no. This is non-stop puking.”

“You never mentioned you've been that ill,” Draco said, looking at Harry with a furrowed brow.

“Why would I tell you?” Harry asked, shaking his head at Malfoy.

“I'm the father, aren't I?” Malfoy looked affronted, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“In the loosest definition of the word,” Harry replied. “It's not like I'm a mother or anything.”

“For simplicity's sake, Harry, you are simply the carrier. Mr. Malfoy, you are the donor. Is that alright?” Katie said, interrupting.

“Fine,” Malfoy said, and Harry nodded his agreement.

“It's an...extremely unusual circumstance,” she continued. “Mr. Malfoy, Harry told me that you and your wife were performing the ritual in question on the night of Beltane, May the 15th?”

“Yes.”

“And the intention was to impregnate your wife? Did that succeed?” she questioned.

“Yes, it was and yes, she's pregnant,” Malfoy confirmed.

“What was the reason you resorted to such a powerful and dark spell to con...”

“It's not dark,” Malfoy cut her off, waving a hand in dismissal. “It's ancient and perhaps misunderstood, but not dark.”

“If you insist,” Katie said, shooting Harry a look that clearly said she did not believe him. Draco ignored her and continued.

“It's none of your business why we performed the ritual.”

“Oh, I think it is,” Katie insisted. “Considering that your actions led to Harry becoming pregnant as well, a circumstance that is extremely rare and reportedly very hard on the...carrier's body, I believe you owe Harry an explanation.”

“There is nothing wrong with either of us, if that's what you're asking,” Draco huffed, slouching in his chair. It was such an odd and seemingly uncharacteristic posture that Harry could not tear his eyes away. But then again he didn't really know Malfoy at all.

Katie waited expectantly for Malfoy to volunteer any more information, but his patience seemed endless. Another action that seemed out of character to Harry, who was accustomed to Malfoy's short temper...which was almost as short as his own.

“Well, moving on for now.” Katie cleared her throat awkwardly, shuffling some papers around on her desk.

“Can you tell me some more about the spell?” Katie asked.

“It was a spell and a potion, as well as the placement of the participants in the triangle, and the timing...” Draco trailed off. “Why don't I have my notes and research owled to you? Then you can see all that was involved. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes, that will do fine, thank you Mr. Malfoy,” Katie said before turning to Harry again. “Alright Harry, lets get you up on the table and take a look, shall we?”

Harry glanced at Malfoy to find that he was watching Harry avidly, his face looked almost thoughtful. Harry swallowed down a sudden surge of nervousness, forcing himself to get up and do as Katie asked.

*

“Well, that was interesting,” Draco declared as he and Potter left St. Mungo's.

“It was a little...tense,” Potter replied. “It'll get better.”

“It will? When?” Draco looked at him with a raised brow.

“When we start getting along better,” Potter said.

“About that,” Draco began, but Potter cut him off.

“Let's go get some coffee,” he said, causing Draco to do a double take.

“Coffee? As in, a date?” he asked incredulously.

“No!” Potter exclaimed. “Merlin, no. Just...we haven't killed each other...yet, so maybe we should use this opportunity to...chat, or...something.”

Draco eyed him closely. “I'm not so sure about you, Potter. The more I see you, the stranger you are.”

“Fine,” Potter said, turning away. “We'll just continue to hate each other, and you can explain it to our child when it asks why we can't be in the same room with each other for five minutes.” He started to walk away, so Draco reached out a hand to stop him.

“Wait,” he said, tugging Potter's arm to turn him around. “Maybe you have a point, though the unlikeliness of that astounds me.”

“You know what, I take it back,” Potter said, wrenching his arm from Draco's grasp. “I've tried, I really have, but you can't keep that snotty mouth of yours shut for one minute, can you? I'm sick of listening to your feeble attempts at making yourself feel superior. It was old by second year, and now it's just getting ridiculous.”

“It's not my fault you're so easy to insult. You give me so many openings, I can't resist,” Draco snapped back. And here he thought he'd been the picture of restraint. Honestly, he had. “And I don't have to make myself feel superior to you, Potty, I just am.”

“There you go again, with the petty name calling. Why can't you just call me Harry and stop acting like a child?” Potter's arms were flailing wildly, but Draco bit his tongue and chose not to comment on it.

“Why would I use your first name, when you've never given me permission to do so? Are you that ignorant of proper etiquette or are you just that stupid?” Draco snarled. “Wait, never mind, I know the answer. You're both!”

“At least I'm not a cruel, stuck up, delusional arsehole with an over exaggerated sense of my own self importance!” Potter yelled, glaring at Draco.

“No, you're a bumbling, idiotic, dim-witted, would-be hero with an ego the size of London!” Draco yelled back.

“That's it!” Potter threw up his hands in exasperation. “I'm done with you. I don't care if this is technically your child, you don't deserve it and I can't have your toxic attitude in our lives. It's over.” He turned and began walking away, faster than Draco could stop him.

“Where do you think you're going?” Draco yelled after him. “Never mind, this isn't worth it. Nothing is worth being tied to you for life, why don't you do us both a favour and just get rid of it?”

That stopped Potter cold. He turned around, his eyes wide with shock. “Did you just tell me to get rid of the baby?” he asked in shaky voice.

“Why not? All it's caused is trouble, and that certainly isn't going to change. I don't want it, you don't want it and we hate each other. You should have just dealt with it and left me out of it altogether,” Draco declared, amazed that his mouth could run seemingly independent of his brain. It was wrong, so wrong, he didn't mean a word of it, but it was too late to take it back.

“You are the cruelest, most despicable person I've ever had the misfortune to meet. Don't bother coming around again, I meant it when I said it's over. I'll do this without your so-called help. After all, you don't want it anyway, do you?” Potter's voice was cold and dangerous...Draco had only ever heard it like that when something big was about to happen. Like when he was fighting a dragon, or about to kill Voldemort. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You can't do that!” he snarled. “That's my baby, and I have just as much right to it as you do!”

“Oh yeah?” Potter said. “I think you just gave up your right. Now fuck off and leave me alone!” He turned and began walking away from Draco again, his shoulders and back radiating tension.

“You can't walk away from me,” Draco yelled at him. “We're not done yet!”

“Just watch me!” Potter called over his shoulder as he turned a corner and disappeared from sight, leaving Draco on a sidewalk in Muggle London, unsure of how he'd lost control of the situation. At least it was a deserted area and no Muggles had been privy to their conversation. Or yelling match, as the case may be. Draco sighed dramatically and drew his wand to apparate.

*

When Harry arrived home, he slammed the door behind him and threw himself down on his couch. Bloody Malfoy, always opening his snotty mouth. He was sure Malfoy hadn't meant what he'd said, Harry had seen the look in his eyes afterwards...he'd just wanted to hurt Harry. And it did hurt. Malfoy's ugly mouth had a way of throwing barbs that were well aimed and always cruel.

He would be perfectly pleasant if he never spoke. 'More than pleasant,' Harry thought. He slumped down, laying his head across the back of the couch, eyes raised upwards in a plea for strength.

He would need it. This wasn't the last he'd see of Malfoy, that was certain. He'd show up sooner or later, and Harry knew he had to be ready. Because Draco Malfoy may be a cruel, petty, stuck up prat, but he was also gorgeous. He was pointy and pale and wore an unattractive sneer far too often, but Harry still found him disarmingly gorgeous.

'Maybe if I could seal his mouth shut with a spell,' he thought, picturing a silent Draco looking down at him with fierce eyes. His fantasy Draco ran his strong, elegant hands up Harry's bare chest, tweaking his nipples before slipping his hand into Harry's dark hair, tugging his neck back while he leaned in for a ki...

“Damn!” Harry said out loud, sitting up and dropping his head into his hands. So much for that idea. There were far too many things he wanted Draco to do with his mouth. The problem was that talking wasn't one of them and that's all he seemed to do. Talking, snarking, throwing insults without care.

Harry sighed. There was nothing for it. He was having a baby with a man he was hopelessly attracted to, but who was the biggest arsehole Harry had ever met. And it didn't seem that he would be changing anytime soon.

'Still,' Harry thought. 'He's beautiful. All that silky hair, pouty lips. Lean muscles and strong hands, and...' he trailed off as his hand trailed down his chest toward his burgeoning erection. He rubbed it through his jeans as he fell into fantasy. A Draco Malfoy who was friendly if sarcastic and as accommodating as he was commanding. Harry groaned, squeezing harder before undoing his jeans and pushing them aside, freeing his hardened cock from it's confines.

His mind conjured Draco, and damn if he hadn't been thinking of him as Draco in his head for days now. He was very careful to call him Malfoy to his face but well, Harry feared he was becoming attached. Which was utterly bizarre, as he could barely stand to be around the man.

Right now though, Harry wasn't thinking about that. He could almost feel Draco leaning over him, his hands braced on the couch by Harry's shoulders as he leaned down for a kiss. He nipped and bit his way down Harry's throat, making him moan out loud. The vivid image was wreaking havoc on Harry's control. He sped up his strokes, imagining that it was Draco's capable hand that was wrapped around his cock instead of his own. Up, down, up again, his thumb sliding over the head to tease before pulling down again. When the Draco in his head leaned down and bit his neck, Harry came with a hoarse cry, calling Draco's name as he spent himself.

He had intended to draw it out, make it last but, as always, images of Draco had him coming quick and hard. It was unlike anything he had yet experienced.

After catching his breath, he cleaned himself with a spell and headed to the kitchen, hoping the wank had relaxed him enough to eat. The potion Katie had given him had not helped, he felt horrible. Oddly enough, all the time spent in Draco's presence lately had kick started his libido. How he felt like wanking all the time when he couldn't eat, he had no idea. At least it relaxed him enough to sleep, though.

He made himself a cup of peppermint tea and pulled down a packet of saltines from the cupboard. It was the only thing he was able to keep down with any regularity. He missed so many rich, flavorful foods, but his stomach lurched at the very thought. No, light and bland was the order of the day.

What was he going to do about Draco? He had agreed to spend time getting to know each other, but whenever they did, he was rude and defensive, which in turn just infuriated Harry more. He could not, despite all his efforts, control his temper once Draco began running that smart mouth of his. Perhaps it was partly down to habit, but Draco seemed to bring out the worst in him.

He took a small sip of tea and nibbled on a saltine, giving it a distasteful glare. He hated saltines. He also hated Draco Malfoy. No unbidden attraction could change that. Mind made up, Harry took a bigger bite and chewed thoughtfully. He wouldn't go to Malfoy Manor again. If Draco was so eager to be in the baby's life, he would have to prove it. He could start with an apology and work forward from there.

Harry sighed. Receiving an apology from Malfoy was about as likely as convincing Hermione that reading was a waste of time. Speaking of Hermione, he was due at theirs for dinner that evening. Hermione was determined that she could get him to keep something down. Harry was dubious and Ron was still far too disgusted with the whole business to have an opinion.

Harry levered himself up from the chair and headed to his bed. If he was to endure another lovely evening with his best friends, he was going to need all the strength he could get.

**  
_July 8th_  
**

Draco paced his room, cursing the fates that had dropped him in this situation. Why was it always Harry Potter? Why did he have to be present for all of Draco's failures, all his hardships? Why did he witness every fuck-up that Draco made? It seemed to be his fate, to be followed through life by Harry bloody Potter. The real question was, what was he going to do about it?

Right now, he knew he owed Harry an apology. And didn't that just beat all. He hated it, this feeling. He was aware that his future happiness depended partly on Harry, and their future relationship. They were tied for life, now, with the coming child. Draco knew that he had to do something about it.

Decided, he strode from the room, fixed on his destination, and his purpose.

*

Harry ambled down the hall toward the front door of his townhouse, wondering who could be visiting at this time of day. He expected Ron, Hermione, Ginny and a few others on a regular basis, but never in the afternoon.

The knock came again, so he called out “I'm coming, hold on, will you?” as he reached the door. He opened it and was completely surprised to see Draco standing there, holding a drink tray filled with styrofoam cups. It was so unexpected and out of character, that Harry just stood staring at him for several long moments.

“Well, are you going to let me in or do I have to stand on your doorstep all day?” Draco said, quirking a brow. Harry was hit with a rush of want, the summer sun was lighting Draco's hair, creating a halo around him, at odds with what Harry knew about his personality.

“Well?” Draco prompted, finally shocking Harry into action.

“Sure,” he said, stepping aside and waving him in. “Is that coffee?” he asked as Draco walked by, somewhat amazed that the rich aroma coming from the cups did not make him want to hurl.

“Yes, I thought it would make a good apology,” Draco replied, handing it to Harry before slipping out of his coat and placing it on a hook.

“Apology? You're here to apologise?” Harry was floored. The very thought was bewildering.

“Yes, I spent some time thinking about the situation and I realised that I haven't been very understanding. Regardless of your sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong, it wasn't your fault that I got you pregnant.”

They stood staring at each other for a few long moments, Harry was rendered speechless by the unexpected and unlikely apology.

“That, uh, that last bit didn't come out the way I thought it...” Draco trailed off, his cheeks darkening. Was he blushing? Harry stared, shocked anew.

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?” Harry asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Look Potter,” Draco began. “I'm really trying here. I know I've been an arse in the past, but I'm trying my best to change that. If you can't appreciate that, I'll just be going.” He turned to leave, but Harry called out to him.

“Don't...please don't go,” he said. “I'm sorry, it's just habit.”

“For both of us, I think,” Draco replied.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Let's go sit down, I want coffee.” He gave Draco a small smile before turning and heading into the sitting room.

“I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got a few things,” Draco said, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from where Harry was. “I wasn't sure if you'd keep it down, but you suggested it yesterday, so...”

“Oh, I didn't...I haven't had any coffee in ages, it's just...well something to say, you know?”

Draco nodded, pulling the coffees out and taking the lids off. A couple of them had whipped cream, one was topped with foam and one looked like plain coffee. Harry took the foamy one.

“That's a...vanilla latte,” Draco told him, after reading the label. Harry took a sip, relishing the rich, frothy foam and the hint of vanilla. He took another, larger sip, raising his eyes to Draco's, smiling widely.

“It's lovely,” he said, taking another big sip. His stomach seemed to be happy with it, strangely enough.

“I'm glad,” Draco said, returning Harry's smile with a tentative one of his own. He took one of the cups with whipped cream and sat back with it. They sat in silence, both looking into their cups and nowhere else until Harry grew a bit bold.

“Are you really ready to take this seriously?” he asked. “Or did Astoria make you come over here?”

Draco's head snapped up and he gave Harry a glare, albeit a much less heated one that the usual.

“I came over here on my own,” Draco replied, taking another sip. “And Astoria doesn't even know I'm here.”

“Oh, that's....good,” Harry said, watching him glare into his drink.

“Perhaps I was being a bit ridiculous,” Draco admitted, and Harry would swear he saw another blush. “I don't...deal well with the unexpected. I suppose that's why I've never dealt well with you.”

He turned to look at Harry, who was surprised and a bit flattered by that. Draco put his cup down on the table and took a deep breath.

“I want to make this work. I want this baby. This isn't how I would have liked to have a second, but I'll take any I can get.” His face and voice were calm and sincere.

“You...you really want kids that much?” Harry asked quietly, meeting Draco's open gaze with his own.

“Yes, I've always...” Draco trailed off, looking down at his hands.

“I never would have guessed,” Harry said. “You were always so horrible to the Weasleys.”

“They were poor, they couldn't afford their children,” Draco scoffed, making Harry's ire rise once more.

“So they shouldn't have had kids? If they couldn't support them in Malfoy style, is that it?” he snapped.

“No, that's not...I didn't mean it like that.” Draco took another deep breath.

“Look, my father hated Arthur Weasley with a passion...I never knew why, but I imitated that with his children, especially Wea...Ron. It was what I knew, what I was taught. I didn't know it was wrong. And they are all so loud and...uncouth, they made it easy for me to disdain them.”

“That doesn't make it right,” Harry insisted and to his surprise, Draco agreed.

“No, you're right, it's not. But that's how I was raised. And I can't help but think they would have been better off with a few less.”

“So they should have just gotten rid of a few?” Harry was pretty pissed now. His coffee was suddenly unappetizing, so he put it down.

“No, I'm not saying that, I'm just saying...” he trailed off, looking bewildered. “I don't know what I'm saying, really.”

“Unless you mean to sound like a judgemental arsehole that is,” Harry snapped. “Which, in my experience, is normal for you.”

“Only around you,” Draco snapped back. “It must be all the arrogance and entitlement.”

“At least I'm not...shit,” Harry said, cutting himself off. “We're doing it again.”

“Yeah, we...it's just habit,” Draco agreed.

“Yeah.” Harry picked up his cup and took another gulp. They seemed to be at a stalemate, both unsure of what to do know.

“This is good,” he said, finishing it off.

“I'll have to remember to buy you another tomorrow,” Draco said with a sudden smile.

“I'd like that,” Harry smiled back, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. He'd never received such an open, generous smile from Draco before. It was a revelation. If Draco kept up the new, milder attitude, outbreaks of arseholeness notwithstanding, Harry could find himself in deep trouble. If he wasn't very, very careful, this Draco was one he could...no, he wasn't even going to think about it.

Harry looked away, not wanting to stare too long and risk revealing his thoughts. The chances that Draco could resist such an opportunity, even with the attitude change, well...Harry wasn't going to take any chances.

“I, uh...would you like some lunch?” Harry asked. “Only, I think I could maybe keep something down and uh...it's getting to be that time.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” Draco replied earnestly. Harry was thrown, once again, by his politeness. Was this how Draco behaved toward people he actually liked? Harry could get used to this.

“It's no trouble,” Harry assured him. “It won't be much, just a sandwich.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed.

They gathered up their cups and took them into the kitchen where Harry set about making a plate of sandwiches and some fruit. They didn't converse while they ate, the silence was awkward enough without conversation attempts, but Harry gratefully accepted another cup of coffee, reheated with a warming charm. It was a mocha, swirled with melted whipped cream and rich, sweet chocolate. Harry closed his eyes in bliss, savouring the tastes and texture.

*

Draco sat at Harry's kitchen table, mechanically chewing a strawberry, watching transfixed as Harry took a few swallows of his coffee. His face was tilted back, eyes closed, his wet lips parted on a moan of delight. He licked a smudge of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth, causing Draco to catch his breath. His cock gave an interested twitch as well, but he pointedly ignored it.

“Good?” he croaked, clearing his throat before repeating the inquiry.

“Mmm, yes,” Harry sighed, opening his eyes to look at him. Draco's breath caught in his throat at the look in Harry's eyes.

He had been so sure that he could keep this under control, but he hadn't anticipated Harry's allure. From the fit body to the intense eyes which were matched by his fiery temperament, to Harry's complete ignorance of his own sensual appeal.

Draco was fucked.

He swallowed heavily, desperate not to give away his thoughts. “I should be going,” he blurted, grateful that his mouth had unwittingly provided him an escape.

“Okay,” Harry said, putting his cup down and licking his lips again. Draco closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength.

“I'll bring you another coffee tomorrow, shall I?” he said, encouraged by the lightening of Harry's eyes at the suggestion. They really were exceptionally expressive.

“That would be...I'd really appreciate that,” Harry replied. His shy grin made Draco's chest tighten, with what, he didn't know. However, one thing was vividly certain. No matter the situation, or the tone of their interaction, no one could wring a visceral response out of him like Harry Potter.

*

Draco showed up the next day, as promised, with a tray of coffees. Harry made him lunch again, pleasantly surprised that he was able to eat and keep it all down. When Draco came back the day after that, Harry believed for the first time that maybe, just maybe they'd make it through this.

The conflict and misunderstanding didn't stop, but it did taper off. By the time Harry's next appointment rolled around, they had settled into a sort of rhythm, and Draco was firmly entrenched in Harry's life. Harry couldn't bring himself to feel upset about it, their interactions had smoothed now that they were both making an effort.

Draco made him smile. A lot. His wit and cutting sarcasm were exceptionally more amusing when not aimed at Harry and his friends. Ron and Hermione had stopped by one Saturday while Harry and Draco were enjoying soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. To say they were shocked at finding him there would be the understatement of the century.

They sat for a cup of tea which Harry hastily prepared and engaged in some of the most stilted and unenthusiastic conversation Harry had ever participated in. Draco left shortly after, much to Harry's disappointment.

“So,” Hermione said, fidgeting with her cup and not meeting Harry's eyes. “How are you coping with this? I know we haven't been around much...”

“You two are busy, I understand,” Harry said. Ron and Hermione had married and began what was now the most successful ward development firm in England. Hermione had always had a knack for charms and invention, and Ron had quickly discovered that he had a deft touch when it came to wards. They offered clients custom designed wards and protective systems, as well as charms to solve almost any household issue.

“We're going to be even busier,” Hermione continued, glancing at Ron. “We've been asked to go to France, to help a family there with their wards. Apparently they are looking for a whole new system.”

“You're leaving?” Harry asked quietly.

“We'd reschedule if we could, but it's getting urgent,” Ron chimed in.

“They have a large estate, and the animals are starting to get in,” Hermione explained. “That in itself won't take all that long, but we thought we'd take the opportunity while we're there to expand the business.”

“We've already booked in four other clients,” Ron said excitedly.

“That's fabulous you guys,” Harry said with a grin. He really was happy for them, but they were also his only real support. He hadn't told anyone else about the pregnancy, not yet anyway.

“But it means that we won't be here for you. We might be gone a couple months.” Hermione took his hand, patting it. "We'll definitely be back before the baby is born, though."

“I...it's okay,” Harry said, tugging his hand away. Sometimes Hermione could be so much like a mother, it was stifling.

“I'm worried about you,” she continued. “Spending all this time with Malfoy.”

“Yeah, Harry,” Ron said. “How can you stand it? After what he did to you?”

“We're working through it,” Harry said, but Ron didn't hear it.

“What was he thinking anyway? Idiot, performing such a dangerous ritual where anyone could come walking in. He's such an arrogant arsehole, doesn't care about anyone but himself.”

“Ron,” Harry tried to gain his attention, but he was beyond noticing.

“And why would he even need to do something like that, unless he was a poncy little queer? Probably can't even get it up for his wife, but who could? I've heard she's a frigid bitch, which should make her just right for Malfoy, the creepy little fag...”

“Oi!” Harry finally shouted, cutting Ron off in mid rant. “While you're insulting Malfoy's supposed homosexuality, remember who you're talking to!”

Ron stopped, looking at Harry in surprise before realizing what he'd done. He flushed then, his face turning red. “Harry, I..I'm sorry, I didn't think...”

“No, you didn't think! Whatever his reasons were, they were his, and none of your business. If he's gay or not, it shouldn't matter. Do you really have a problem with it? Have you been lying to me all these years? Is it only tolerable because it's me, but despicable if it's Malfoy?”

“No, it's fine, really,” Ron said, but Harry was shaking his head.

“Now I don't know what to think.” Harry stood up, collecting their cups and dropping them noisily into the sink.

“Harry, it's just that we're worried about you,” Hermione said. “This forced intimacy with someone who has proven to be nasty, cruel and utterly heartless. The fact that you're being coerced into having a child with him...it's horrible.”

“It's not as horrible as that. It was forced on him as well,” Harry declared. “Anyway, like I said, it's not that bad. We're starting to understand each other better.”

“That's nice,” Hermione said, but Ron scoffed.

“I still don't trust it. He's up to something,” he said.

“I'll be fine,” Harry insisted. “I can take care of myself.”

“We know you can, Harry, but you still need your friends,” Hermione said.

“I know. And I know I have you, but it's okay that you have to go. I know you'll still be with me,” Harry said earnestly, while Hermione sniffed.

“Oh Harry, that's so sweet.” She ran up and gave Harry a huge hug. Ron and Harry exchanged an eye roll over her shoulder, though Harry was still annoyed with his friend's seeming homophobia.

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry said, smiling at her. “Now enough about Malfoy, tell me more about your trip.”

By the time they left, Harry was exhausted. Their support had been instrumental to him over the years, but it was becoming cloying as time went by. Ron in particular was resistant to the idea that Malfoy could be a decent bloke, not that Harry could blame him, but their negativity had left Harry confused, at odds with the idea that he and Draco could make a real friendship out of this forced intimacy.

The feeling made him apprehensive about Draco's next visit. However, his awkwardness was quickly erased by Draco's humorous recounting of the bumbling barista's attempts at making the coffees. Draco's visits began to leave him with a warm, contented feeling...it was unexpected, leaving him wondering how much worse it was going to get before it got better. It did help to combat the ever present nausea, though.

**  
_July 30th_  
**

Draco arrived a little earlier than usual, but with the usual coffees. After some experimenting, they had settled on the first selections, a vanilla latte or mocha for Harry, decaf, since Draco had learned about caffeine's potential affect on the foetus, and a second, caffeinated mocha for himself. After a quick lunch, they headed to St. Mungo's for Harry's latest appointment with Katie.

This one passed much more smoothly. Katie was still rather cold and perfunctory when speaking to him, but he could hardly blame her. According to her scans, everything was going smoothly. Harry was still sick, though it wasn't as bad as before. He looked better now too, less gaunt. Draco's attraction had grown even stronger, made worse by the fact that they were getting along.

After they were done, they made their way onto the street where they stopped, uncertain of what to do or say. They'd already had their usual coffee and lunch, but Draco didn't really want to leave.

“Do you want to get another coffee?” he finally asked, loving how Harry's cheeks pinked. He remembered the date comment from the last time, when Harry had asked, and had to fight to keep himself from flushing a little.

“I'd love one, but...well, I'm not supposed to have a lot of caffeine,” he said. “It's okay, though. Those morning coffees are all that keep me going some days. It's just, I need to limit them, so I choose yours.”

“Oh, well,” Draco said with a smile. “It's just as well I've been getting you decaf anyway," he said with a smirk. "How about a walk then?"

Harry nodded his agreement, so they set off, talking of nothing at all. Draco was beginning to look forward to their bantering, now that they had moved past bitter and angry and hurtful. Harry was a good verbal sparring partner, though Draco usually bested him.

They reached a bench in a somewhat deserted park and sat down, enjoying the sun and the now comfortable silence that hung between them. It was positively genteel, Draco was astounded that they could have come so far. And he rarely had to bite his tongue anymore to make it happen.

“It's your birthday tomorrow,” he stated finally.

Harry looked over at him. “Yes, I...I didn't realize you knew.”

“Seriously Potter,” Draco scoffed. “I doubt there's a person in the wizarding world who doesn't know when it's your birthday.”

“I suppose,” Harry replied, plucking at his jeans nervously for a moment. “I'd, uh....I'd like it a lot if you would call me Harry,” he said at last.

“Oh,” was all that Draco could bring himself to respond.

“I remember what you said and...I thought it was time. We are having a baby together, right?”

“Yes, we are,” Draco said. “Alright, if you like.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling at Draco with bright eyes and flushed cheeks. They descended into silence once more, until Draco sighed and said, dramatically, “I suppose you may call me Draco, if you must.”

Harry smiled even brighter, his warm, intense eyes taking Draco's breath away, even from behind those ridiculous glasses.

“I'd like that.”

“Well alright then,” Draco allowed himself to smile back. This new pattern of behaviour was becoming easier and easier. “So, what are your plans for the big day? Friends throwing you a huge party?”

Harry looked away, fidgeting with his jeans again. “Actually, no. Ron and Hermione are in France and there's no one else I'm close enough to. I mean, I have plenty of friends, but none besides them would throw me a party.” He sighed, tilting his head back onto the bench and staring at the sky.

“I wouldn't want one anyway. I hate being the center of attention, though you may find that hard to believe.”

Draco did. His perception of Harry had always been that of a smarmy, attention-seeking prat, and even with their new friendship and all that Draco knew about him now, it was hard to let go of that idea.

“Not that hard, really,” he lied. “Would you like to come to dinner then? It's just me and Astoria, but I know she'd be thrilled to see you. No one should be alone on their birthday, not even you.”

Harry turned his head, smiling and rolling his eyes at Draco's jab. “Sounds great,” he replied.

**  
_July 31st_  
**

“Harry, I'm so glad to see you again,” Astoria greeted, beaming at him brightly. “When Draco told me you were coming for dinner, I was thrilled. It's been a while.”

“Yes, it has,” Harry said, pointedly not mentioning that the last time they had shared a meal, it had not ended so well.

“I hope this meal will end better than the last,” Astoria declared, as if she could read his thoughts. Harry nodded his agreement, before letting himself be led into the parlour.

“Dinner isn't quite ready yet, I'm afraid. Would you like a drink?” she asked, the consummate hostess.

“Just water, please,” Harry asked, and Astoria snapped her fingers, giving instructions to the elf who appeared immediately.

“Draco is running a bit late today as well,” Astoria said as she gestured him to a seat and took the one opposite him. “Estate business, he won't be long.”

“I understand,” Harry said, smiling gratefully at the elf who had returned with their drinks. Harry took a sip, savouring the slide of cool liquid down his throat. It was the same concoction that he had been given on his previous visit, after almost embarrassing himself all over the rug in this very room.

Astoria's words were proven true not a moment later when Draco came striding through the door, his hair windblown and his cheeks flushed. Harry's newly sensitive nose detected the unmistakable odour of horse, as well as fresh, clean air. Far from making him nauseous, it was intoxicating.

“Sorry I'm late,” he said, kissing Astoria chastely on the cheek before turning his bright gaze on Harry, who blushed under the force of it. “Hello, Harry,” he said softly, his voice deepening. Harry flushed further. “I'm glad you could make it.”

“I, uh...thanks,” Harry replied, still shaken by Draco's warm greeting.

“Oh, we have something for you!” Astoria exclaimed, shooting up from her seat to pluck a brightly wrapped package from the table behind her. She all but bounded over to hand it to him, and Harry marvelled at the energy she displayed. He was still exhausted, all the time, and while the constant nausea had abated, he was still in no small amount of discomfort.

“You didn't have to...I mean, I didn't expect...” he trailed off, unsure of what to say.

“Don't be silly Harry,” Draco said, sitting in the chair beside him. “It's the height of rudeness to invite someone to dinner on their birthday and then not give them a gift.”

“Oh, I...okay,” Harry said, flushing again. Damn his tell tale cheeks.

“Open it,” Astoria encouraged, so Harry did. It was a smallish, elegantly covered book, which revealed nothing but empty pages when he opened it. He looked up at Astoria in confusion.

"It's a Malfoy tradition," Astoria explained. "When a Malfoy child is born a spell is performed which ties this book to the child. Their name will be on the front and and the major milestones and accomplishments will be automatically included. As well as pictures. And if there's ever anything you want to include in the book, there's a simple spell that will insert it."

While Astoria explained, Draco sipped his drink, his eyes fixed on Harry, who was sure he could feel the weight of Draco's gaze on him as he admired the gift.

“Thank you very much,” Harry said last at, his smiling eyes meeting Draco's and holding. They stared at each other for a few moments, the world fading away, as if only the two of them were left. Until Astoria interrupted them with a genteel cough, that is. Harry shook himself out of it, then looked down to the book in his hands, strikingly aware that he had just shared a long, heated look with Draco, one that may have begun innocent, but had quickly gone past that.

The awkwardness was disturbed by the house elf arriving to tell them that dinner was served. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, allowing Astoria to lead them into the dining room.

*

“That was lovely,” Astoria declared as she sank onto the chaise beside Draco.

“It was...acceptable,” Draco agreed, swirling his whisky around in the bottom of his glass.

“More than acceptable. Harry is much more pleasant than I'd anticipated,” she continued, watching Draco carefully.

“He'll do,” Draco replied. He didn't look up, reinforcing Astoria's suspicions. She smiled slyly, and took his hand with one of hers while tilting his chin up with the other.

“You like him,” she stated. Draco scoffed, wrenching his chin from her grasp and looking in the opposite direction.

“Don't be ridiculous,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I'm not,” she replied, leaning into his shoulder and laying her head on it. “And what's more, he likes you too.” That got Draco's attention. His head whipped around, his eyes wide.

“That's...you're...” he stammered as Astoria chuckled to herself. She so loved being right. “What on earth could make you think such a thing?”

“Oh, nothing much. Only everything,” she replied, sitting up straight and looking him in the eye. “Just the way he brightened when you walked into the room, and the tone of your voice when you greeted him. The affectionate-” she ignored his snort and continued, “banter and rather intimate knowledge of each other's likes and dislikes. Not to mention the heated stares, which were enough to make me wish you would just shag already. And that you'd let me watch.”

Draco stared at her, his cheeks flushed an attractive pink and his eyes wide with shock and amazement. Oh, how she wished, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, that he could love her as more than a friend.

“Astoria!” he exclaimed, clearly scandalized. “That's, that's...disgusting!”

“Oh?” she said, lifting a pale blonde brow, her lips unable to hold back her smirk. “Is it disgusting because it's you and Harry Potter, or because I find your obvious attraction arousing?"

“I...that's not...don't be perverse!” He turned away again, tossing back the last of his drink.

“I'll stop if you admit you fancy Harry Potter.”

“I don't fancy him, I...respect him,” Draco admitted, grimacing as if it were painful.

“Oh please,” Astoria scoffed at him this time. “You fancy the pants off him. Or you would, if you could get into them.”

“Astoria, have you gone mad? You must have. You can't honestly think that I, that I...” he trailed off.

“I do,” Astoria said. “I believe you want him, and not just in the way you want all the other blokes you shag.”

He said nothing, putting his glass on the table in front of him before standing. “I refuse to talk about this with you,” he said, turning to leave. “I'll see you in the morning.”

Astoria laughed softly when he'd left the room, already thinking up ways she could bring them together more. Draco may be her husband and she didn't wish for a divorce any more than he did, but she wanted him to be happy. And it seemed, despite the seeming absurdity of the notion, that Harry Potter could make him happy.

**  
_August 16th_  
**

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, his insides twisted into excruciating knots. He doubled over as another wave of agony ripped through his insides. He gasped for air when they passed, panting and clenching the sheets. He was still aching when another wave hit, taking his breath again. When that one passed, he noticed that his abdomen was distended and tender to the touch. He was in definite trouble.

His first instinct was to floo Draco, but that would be a waste of time. Draco and Astoria had gone to France, to spend a few weeks with Narcissa. She thought some time on the beach would be beneficial, and Astoria had agreed. Draco had been less agreeable, but in the end, he had agreed to go.

Another wave of pain ripped through him before he was able to get out of bed, dragging himself across the floor in order to floo St. Mungo's. Once he had gotten through, everything seemed to speed up. An orderly and a healer came through, diagnosed him and apparated him to a room that was clearly in the hospital.

He found himself in the midst of a flurry of activity, spells lit the space with various colours and beeping noises. A female healer gave him a bright orange potion, which he gagged down before slumping over in exhaustion. He blinked a few times at the healer who had given him the potion, and then everything went black.

**  
_August 18th_  
**

Harry sat on the edge of his hospital bed, waiting for Katie to come back with Healer Shanks, to discharge him. He was fine now, the pain was gone and despite still being tired, he wasn't feeling nauseous at all.

Well, that was to be expected, now that he wasn't pregnant anymore.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, blinking back tears. Katie assured him that his emotions would be erratic for a few days, until all the hormones had left his system. He hated feeling so unstable, so alone. With Ron and Hermione gone and Draco not due back for more than a week, he felt adrift.

He had underestimated how attached he had become to his baby. Losing it had broken his heart, turning his emotions inside out. And now he was faced with not only the loss of the child, but of Draco.

They had become close, or so Harry had thought. They had potential. Maybe, just maybe they could have become something more. But now, with nothing to connect them, he had lost any hope that he had been stubbornly denying. It was useless to deny it now. He wanted Draco. Passionately. Oh, it had always been passionate between them, so it wasn't a big surprise that, now that they had moved past their animosity, that passion had slipped from hate into...something else. Something Harry wasn't ready to admit to just yet.

He didn't know what to do now. And how was he going to tell Draco? His thoughts were interrupted but the entrance of Katie and Healer Shanks. He would deal with his dilemma later.

**  
_August 28th_  
**

Draco ordered the coffees, handing over more than enough cash and waving away the change. He gave the barista a wide grin, unable to contain it. Against all odds, he had missed Harry. A lot. He was eagerly looking forward to seeing him again.

Astoria had continued to needle him about what she had labelled his 'crush' on Harry. Draco had to admit she had a point, but 'crush' was more than a bit of an understatement by this point. He didn't want to put a label on it, more out of self protection than anything else. And he'd certainly never admit it to Astoria. She was like a niffler after a galleon, never letting up.

He smiled again at the barista as he collected his coffee, chuckling at her resulting blush. 'Ahh,' he thought. 'If only she knew.' He left the coffee shop with a spring in his step, eager to get to Harry's house as soon as possible.

It didn't take long until he was knocking on Harry's door, tray in hand. Harry opened it, waving Draco inside and closing the door behind him.

“Hello, Harry!” Draco exclaimed, beaming at Harry. “Have you missed me?”

“Err...yes,” Harry said quietly. “I'm glad you're back. I liked the postcard.”

“Oh, you just missed the coffee,” Draco placed the tray on the table in Harry's sitting room, pulling out mochas for both of them. He handed one to Harry, who was looking pale and nervous, hovering beside the couch. "Quite a quaint Muggle thing, the postcard. I thought you'd like it."

"I did," Harry said, smiling weakly.

“Are you going to sit down?” Draco asked.

“I, uh...actually, I'm not feeling very good,” Harry said, fidgeting with the lid of his cup.

“Are you alright?” Draco put his cup down, crossing to Harry and pulling him to a seat on the couch. “Should I call Katie?”

“No, it's okay, I've already seen her,” Harry said, putting his cup down as well. “Draco, I...” He stopped, looking away from Draco.

“Harry, what is it?” he asked, sitting beside him, alarmed. Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, but ended up saying nothing.

“I, it's...it's nothing, really.” Harry gave him a weak smile. “Do you mind if I skip lunch today? I think I'll go lie down.”

“Okay, sure,” Draco said. “I'll just stop by tomorrow, shall I?”

Harry's eyes shifted a bit, not meeting Draco's. “Actually, I'm not feeling the coffee so much anymore. I think I'd like to skip it.”

Draco was taken aback. He'd thought that Harry enjoyed their time together as much as he had.

“Just lunch, then?” Draco tried again, but Harry was still avoiding his eyes.

“I, uh...I'll owl you,” Harry said, standing up suddenly. “I need to go lie down now. I'll be in touch.”

“Okay,” Draco said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “If you need anything...” he trailed off.

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling weakly. He turned and left the room, leaving Draco to see himself out. If he didn't know better, he'd think he'd been given the brush off. He glanced up the stairs toward Harry's room before leaving, his heart as heavy as the silence in the room behind him.

**  
_September 14th_  
**

“Draco, I'm sure it's fine,” Harry insisted, kneeling in front of the fire, where Draco's head floated, as if separate from his body.

“But I want to come,” Draco insisted just as fervently. “I've missed two appointments so far, and I don't want to miss another one.”

“But...Hermione is here and it would be better if I kept you separated, don't you think?”

“Isn't she in France with Weaselby?” Draco asked.

“Don't call him that,” Harry said, scowling. “And yes, she was, but she came home for the weekend...”

“It's not the weekend,” Draco pointed out.

“It was,” Harry said.

“I don't care. I can behave,” Draco assured him. Harry was starting to feel a bit desperate. Putting Draco off was getting harder and harder, but Harry still didn't have a clue how to tell him. Most of the time he could barely convince himself of the truth.

“That's not the point,” Harry said, sighing. “Just...I'll owl you when we're done. Maybe we can do lunch tomorrow.”

“You never owl me!” Draco yelled. “You always say you will. We never do lunch anymore, and you never owl. You've been brushing me off since I got back from France.”

“Draco, Hermione's here, I've got to go,” Harry lied, desperate to end the conversation. He wished he could have avoided it altogether, but Draco seemed unable to take no for an answer.

“We're not done talking about this,” Draco said. “Harry!” he yelled, but Harry was already closing the floo.

“I'll owl you,” he said as he closed the floo all the way, slumping back on his couch. This was getting out of hand. He was still heartbroken. He kept looking at the book that Draco and Astoria had given him for his birthday, crushed that he'd never get to use it. He'd never have a child now, he knew. This had been his one chance, and it was gone.

How could he tell Draco? He knew that he should, and soon. It was horrible of him to have prevaricated this long. He had tried, the few times that he and Draco had been together since it happened, but he hadn't been able to actually get it out.

He let out a sigh, wondering now how he was going to be able to put Draco off that afternoon. Draco was sure to owl or floo, if he didn't just show up. He'd have to deal with it, then. No more evading or avoiding. He was a Gryffindor, dammit. He'd defeated the most powerful Dark Lord ever when he was seventeen years old. He could tell Draco Malfoy he'd lost the baby. He could, he...buried his head in his hands. When had he turned into such a coward?

*

Draco fell backwards onto the plush rug in front of the fireplace. Harry's abrupt closure of his floo had pushed Draco out rather violently. Fortunately, the rug was layered with cushioning charms.

This was getting ridiculous. Harry was avoiding him, there was no other explanation.

“That's it,” he said, getting up off the floor. “I'm going to that appointment, whether he wants me there not.”

*

Draco strode purposefully down the corridor toward Katie's office. He was right on time, so he was hoping to slip in without much fuss...hoping that Harry wouldn't make a fuss, that is. His reaction to Draco's attempts to spend time with him had been...evasive, at best, his excuses flimsy. Enough was enough.

Draco rapped sharply on the door and then opened it, putting on his best determined yet friendly face, only to have it slip away as he entered the room.

“Malfoy, what are you doing here?” Katie stood from behind her desk, he face filled with annoyance similar to what Draco was feeling. There were a man and a woman sitting in front of the desk, but they were decidedly not Harry and Hermione Granger. Weasley. Whatever.

“I'm here for our appointment, why else?” Draco explained, feeling rather off balance and defensive. “I must have got the time wrong, I'll just wait out here.”

“Malfoy, hold on,” Katie said, excusing herself to the couple in the office. “We need to talk.” She lead him down the hall to a quiet alcove, her expression softening. “Why do you think we have an appointment?” she asked quietly.

Draco looked at her as if she had sprouted horns. “Isn't the point of setting appointments in advance so that you know when you have to be somewhere? I'm sorry I'm early, I was sure i had the time right.”

Katie closed her eyes, as if praying for patience. “Well yes, we did have an appointment, but...haven't you talked to Harry since you've been back?”

“I...of course I have,” he said. What did that have to do with anything?

“He hasn't told you what happened, then?” She was looking at him with eyes full of concern, and it was making him uncomfortable.

“What happened?” he asked, deflecting his discomfort with anger. Apparently Harry had been avoiding him these past weeks for a reason.

“That's...I can't tell you,” she replied, cutting him off before he could ask another question. “Confidentiality agreements mean I couldn't, even if I wanted to, she clarified. “You need to talk to Harry.”

“I've been trying, he's been giving me the run around. What happened?” Draco asked again.

“Draco, I can't tell you, all I can say is that you need to talk to Harry.”

“How am I supposed to talk to him when he won't talk to me?” Draco threw up his hands in defeat.

“Make him talk,” Katie said, squeezing his hand. “You've always known how to push his buttons. Don't forget that.” She smiled at him and then went back to her office, leaving him in the hall, confused, with a knot of worry growing in his belly.

*

Harry jolted awake, wondering what had shocked him out of his restless slumber, until it came again. Someone was pounding on his door, and from the sound of it, they weren't sparing the paint.

Harry took a deep breath before heaving himself off the couch and shuffling toward the door. “Keep your pants on,” Harry mumbled as he unlatched the door.

It occurred to him right as the door swung open, that he was trying to avoid Draco, and who else would be pounding his door at this time of day? Sure enough, it was Draco.

“Let me in, Potter, we have to talk,” Draco demanded, pushing past Harry and on into the sitting room, where he began to pace.

“Draco, I...didn't expect to see you here,” Harry said weakly.

“I”m sure you didn't think you could fend me off forever,” Draco snapped, turning to glare at Harry. “What is going on here, Harry?”

“Nothing. I just...haven't been feeling up to company, you know how it is,” Harry looked away, fidgeting with his clothes, a nervous habit Draco had learned to be amused by, and never failed to use it to poke fun at Harry.

“Bullshit!” Draco spat, shocking Harry with his uncharacteristic language. “I went to St. Mungo's and talked to Katie,” he challenged.

Harry froze. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought we had an appointment!” Draco crossed his arms, his glare hardening. “Where is Hermione, by the way?”

“She, uh...she...” Harry stammered, but Draco cut him off.

“Oh, give it up Harry, I know you cancelled the appointment. Katie wouldn't tell me why, and I want to know!” Draco yelled. Harry flinched. He should have told Draco the truth, before it came to this.

“I deserve to know,” Draco continued. “Now tell me what is wrong!”

“Okay...okay,” Harry said, sitting down on the couch and holding his head in his hands. “Just, just let me think, I...”

“Harry, I just need to know what's going on. Please,” Draco said, his tone much softer.

“I...okay,” Harry hesitated, looking up at Draco, his face suddenly showing the weight of the last few weeks. “I lost the baby.”

Draco just stared at him. The silence lengthened, growing deeper and more tense, but he said nothing. Harry was beginning to wonder if Draco had heard him.

“Draco?” he asked carefully, clenching the couch cushions until his knuckles turned white.

Draco shook his head, finally meeting Harry's eyes again. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked quietly. The cold tone of his voice drove a shiver up Harry's back.

“I...I couldn't,” Harry replied. “Every time I tried...and you were so happy, and, I...” he trailed off, silence settling again.

“When?”

“When you were in France,” Harry told him, bracing for the inevitable reaction. And finally, it came.

“When I was...I don't fucking believe you!” Draco yelled, his arms flung out in emphasis. “How could you keep this from me? It was my baby too!”

“It was a boy,” Harry said, unbidden.

“Oh, now you find out the sex! Just what is wrong with you?” Draco yelled.

Harry snapped. The weeks of grief and loneliness were overwhelming him, Draco's anger was just the spark needed to light the fire.

“There's nothing wrong with me!” he bellowed back. “I just wanted you out of my life already, but you are clearly too dense to take a hint!” Harry unleashed the first thing he could think of and aimed it right at Draco.

“Take a hint? You're just too stubborn to let anyone help you with anything. You think you can do it all on your own! But you can't, you dim-witted, sorry excuse for a Gryffindor! You can't!” Draco bellowed back, stalking across the room to where Harry was sitting. Harry leapt up and turned away, heading to the other side of the room.

“Maybe I just didn't want the help of a Slytherin prat like you! All you ever think about is yourself!”

“I'm thinking about my baby!” Draco chased Harry across the room. “Stop running away, you coward!”

“I'm not a coward!” Harry spun around, facing Draco with clenched fists. The anger and adrenalin was coursing through him, making him feel alive for the first time in weeks. “Though you'd know about cowards, wouldn't you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Draco asked, his silver eyes flashing ice into the green flames in Harry's.

“That you're a stuck up, egotistical, slimy coward, that's what it means!” Harry snapped, not standing down as Draco stalked closer.

“You know what? I'm not even going respond to that,” Draco said, shaking his head and sneering at Harry.

“What's wrong? Scared, Malfoy?” Harry taunted. Draco growled, stalking even closer.

“This whole plan was a joke! I should never have listened to Astoria.”

“You expect me to believe that you're under orders from the little wife?” Harry scoffed.

“Of course it was, you didn't honestly think that I would spend time with you of my own accord? I never wanted you anyway, and I certainly didn't want your Potter spawn!”

Harry jerked as if Draco had slapped him. In a way, he had. The hot ball of hurt that had formed when he'd lost the baby and had manifested again when Draco began interrogating him burst into flame with a rush.

“Well good!” he all but screamed at Draco, desperate to hurt him as much as he had hurt Harry. “I'm glad I lost it! The last thing this world needs is another Malfoy!”

Before he could blink, his back was against the wall, his hands pinned above his head. Draco's breath was hot on his face, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“Take it back!” he demanded, slamming Harry's wrists into the wall again. “Take it back!”

“No!” Harry screamed back, struggling against Draco hold. Despite his lean, almost thin looking frame, Draco was actually very strong, and Harry couldn't get any purchase to squirm himself free.

“You stubborn, arrogant arsehole!” Draco hissed.

“Better than than a cruel, petty, pathetic coward!” Harry shot back. Draco growled then lurched forward and the next thing Harry knew, there was a pair of hard, hot lips against his own, sucking and biting. It was hard and violent, full of anger, but it was still a kiss, and Harry couldn't stop himself from answering it with bites of his own.

A moment later, Draco pulled back and stared at Harry, his eyes full of anger and confusion but most of all, lust. They were both frozen. Harry was trapped, angry and confused, but wanting nothing more than for Draco to kiss him again and make it all better.

Draco did. He licked his lips, glancing down at Harry's before leaning in and kissing him again. But this time, the kiss was softer, with more lip and less teeth. Less pressure and more tongue, and Harry let out a groan of need. Or was it Draco? He didn't know...all he knew was the heat of Draco's mouth as his tongue pushed its way inside, the hard pressure of Draco's body against his. It all focused down, into Harry's cock, which had hardened the instant he'd felt Draco's pressing into it.

Suddenly, Draco pulled back, letting go and leaving Harry against the wall, panting and confused. The space where Draco's body had been was cold, empty. Harry hated it, he wanted Draco back against him, lips, body, all of him.

He opened his eyes, disappointed to see Draco a few feet away, his eyes flicking back to Harry and then away, his chest heaving.

“Draco,” Harry began, but he was cut off before he could get started.

“No, no...” Draco said, still panting, looking at Harry now, with wild eyes. “No, I've had enough of you, Potter,” he spat, viciously. “This was a mistake, we're done.” He stalked back to Harry, leaning close and hissing at him dangerously, “I never want to see you again.”

He turned on his heel and left the room. A moment later Harry heard the door slamming, then the smash as something hit the floor. He dropped his hands, slumping down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, where he laid his head on his knees in defeat.

**  
_December 23rd_  
**

Harry walked slowly down the road, head bent against the whipping winds. It was a snowy, stormy night, but he just couldn't stay in that house anymore. Everywhere he looked, he saw memories of Draco, in the kitchen, where they'd had many conversations, some deep, some frivolous. In the sitting room where they'd shared their coffee and chatted. The entryway brought memories of Draco crossing the threshold, coffee in his hands and a smile on his lips. Every one of those encounters had brought them closer together.

'Not that it matters now,' Harry thought cynically. He hadn't heard from Draco since he'd left Harry's house that day, despite the fact that he'd sent several owls bearing apologies. Draco had ignored every letter he'd sent, and Harry's dramatic brain imagined Draco crumpling them into balls and throwing them in the fire, only to watch until they'd burned into ash. 

He pulled his coat closer, speeding up his steps a bit. The cafe was right ahead, it only took him a few moments to reach it. He pushed the door open, relieved to feel the warmth of the shop blanket him. The air was heavy with the smell of coffee and baking, which was a wonderful thing, now that he was no longer nauseous all the time.

Harry shook off the feeling of loneliness and loss that always came when he thought about his short, ill-fated pregnancy. In the three months since the confrontation with Draco, he'd tried desperately to forget that the whole thing had ever happened. But his feelings for Draco had not gone away, and the sense of loss just continued to grow.

He approached the counter, smiling at the handsome young barista, who was smiling up at him from under a too long fringe. His heart wasn't in it, though. No handsome face or fit body had moved him lately, not since Draco.

After getting his coffee, he turned to leave, but before he could he walked smack into someone's chest, spilling a little of his coffee.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” he exclaimed, looking up at the man, utterly shocked to find Draco standing in front of him with a look of apprehension frozen on his face. “Draco,” he whispered, knowing his face must be mirroring Draco's.

“Harry,” Draco said, just as quietly. Harry didn't know what to say. The last he'd seen of Draco had been his back, before the door slammed behind him. Right before that, he'd felt Draco's lips on his, his hard body pressed into Harry's and...Harry shook his head, trying to banish the memory.

“How are you?” Draco asked politely. Harry opened his mouth as if to answer, but then Draco's last words came back to him in a rush, like a punch in the stomach.

“What do you care?” he asked instead. “I thought you never wanted to see me again?”

Draco stiffened, his face becoming even more like a mask. “I'm sorry I asked. Apparently people aren't allowed to show concern for your welfare.”

“People are,” Harry said. “Not you.” Though Harry hadn't thought it possible, Draco stiffened further.

“If my concern offends you,” Draco said heatedly. “Feel free to leave.”

Harry scowled at him. “I'm on my way,” he snarled back.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Draco muttered, but Harry heard him.

“Fuck off, Malfoy!” he said.

“I thought you were the one fucking off, Potter!” Draco replied heatedly. Harry opened his mouth but decided he was better off leaving it there. He gave Draco his best glare and then twisted around him and dashed out of the store.

Once he was out of the store, Harry breathed a rather large sigh of relief. He had gone to the shop hoping that a latte would be as good as he'd remembered, but the taste was soured by his argument with Draco. He tossed the cup into a nearby bin and tried to brush the encounter off, muttering to himself, 'hopefully that will never happen again.'

**  
_January 4th_  
**

The next time it happened, it was Draco who walked into Harry, on his way out of the shop.

“Watch were you're going, Potter,” he snapped automatically, the habit of years taking over, now that they weren't _friendly_ anymore. Despite the fact that Draco wished, on occasion really, not often, that they were.

Harry looked good, Draco had to admit. Better now than when he was sick all the time. Draco wished he could ignore it...thinking about why Harry had been sick and how it all ended definitely detracted from the pleasure.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Malfoy,” Harry snapped back, intentionally banging his shoulder into Draco's.

“Witty as ever, Potter,” Draco said, but his heart wasn't in it. He had been utterly furious at Harry at first, and it had taken a long time for that feeling to lessen. Their last encounter had helped it along tremendously. Just being that close to Harry again was confusing...and addictive. He started to walk away, but was stopped by Harry's voice.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Draco asked.

“Why are you coming here? Isn't this coffee shop a little far from your place?” Harry asked, his tone warmer but still frosty.

“Yes but I...became accustomed to coming here,” Draco answered honestly. “Besides, I'm a wizard, or have you forgotten? I can go anywhere in an instant.”

“I haven't forgotten,” Harry said, his voice hardening again. “It's pretty obvious, after you got me pregnant.”

Draco could almost feel the dark cloud that had suddenly appeared above them. “Don't blame me for that, you...” Draco stopped, lifting his nose as he smelling something rank and sneering at Harry.

“No, I'm not going into that again. It's over, and I think we're both relieved, so let's just leave it there,” he said and turned once more to walk away.

“That would work fine, if you'd just stop coming here!” Harry yelled at him, but Draco stiffened his shoulders and kept going. If he didn't, he'd either blow his temper or beg Harry if they could be friends again. And that was something he was not going to do.

**  
_January 19th_  
**

Harry's eyes darted up and down the road, wide and alert for a sight of blonde hair and an upturned nose. He'd been coming here a few times a week, hoping that they'd bump in to each other again. He didn't know what he'd do if they did, probably just yell insults at each other again.

He wished he could do otherwise. For a short time he'd been...if not friends, at least _friendly_ with Draco. But no more. Harry knew what he'd done was wrong, but he certainly didn't think it deserved this censure. On the other hand, they hadn't been friends before, and their only connection had been the baby. Now that it was gone, they had nothing but the remnants of an intense rivalry. An an intense kiss. How he wished he could forget the kiss. Harry sighed. He couldn't keep doing this to himself, he should find another coffee shop.

After ordering a mocha, which was Draco 's favorite, he sat down in a cushy armchair sitting beside a small table. He glared into his cup and out the window in turns, wondering why he was sitting there with, holding a ceramic mug dripping whipped cream down it's side, instead of a neat, hot styrofoam cup while retreating to his home.

He stopped wondering when the door was thrust open and an imperious looking Draco Malfoy walked in. He watched avidly as Draco ordered his drink, waiting to be noticed, wondering if he would be.

He needn't have worried. As Draco waited for his coffee, his shoulders stiffened and he turned slightly, sending a glance in Harry's direction. He avoided looking while he waited, fidgeting with the lid he was holding.

Harry could see the battle being waged in Draco's mind as he thanked the barista and secured the lid onto the cup. He looked up at the door before dropping his eyes to the cup, then back to the door. Suddenly, he shot a look at Harry, who met narrowed grey eyes with a direct, open stare.

Draco turned back to the door, his tense, straight back signifying his mood, but he didn't get far before turning around completely, facing Harry and levelling him with a gaze that had been so much less intimidating from the corner of his eye. Draco looked like he was working himself up for a good rant, and Harry found himself relishing the possibility. At least then they would be talking. For a moment anyway, until the yelling started.

Against all odds, Draco began to walk slowly toward Harry's table, the glare slipping from his face, leaving behind an impenetrable mask, which destroyed any chance Harry may have had of reading him. He had never been able to see past the Malfoy Mask, though he assumed that was rather the point.

Draco placed his cup firmly on the table, then dropped gracefully into the chair opposite Harry's. He proceeded to look out the window, at the wall hangings and around the shop at it's customers, all without sparing a glance for Harry, who was losing patience quickly.

As Harry opened his mouth, no doubt to deliver some scathing opener, Draco spoke up.

“Hello,” he said, his voice as much of a mask as his face.

“Hi,” Harry replied. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, glancing around desperately for something to comment on, something that was not wrapped up in their past. “It's good to see you,” he said, his mouth, as usual, speaking without and discussion with his brain.

“As it is you,” Draco said stiffly, taking a sip of his drink.

“Good mocha?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his own.

“What makes you think it's a mocha?” Draco asked, and Harry chuckled. This encounter was certainly beginning better than the others had. Finally.

“An intimate knowledge of your preferences,” Harry replied, grinning widely at Draco, pleased that they weren't yelling yet.

“You know nothing of my preferences, Harry,” Draco countered, but Harry was so pleased to hear his first name cross Draco's lips, he didn't pay attention to where this line of discussion might take them.

“Oh, I think I know better than most,” Harry said with a leer. Draco's head snapped up, he looked Harry in the eye for the first time since he'd sat down.

“You don't know anything about me, Potter,” Draco snarled, tearing his gaze from Harry's and looking out the window. Harry's smile drooped, the easy banter dissipating as fast as it had appeared.

“I thought I did,” Harry said softly, smiling weakly when Draco's gaze turned to him again.

Draco didn't say anything for a long time, or about five seconds, but it felt like an eternity to Harry.

“It's not that simple,” he said, looking away and taking another sip.

“Nothing between us ever is,” Harry said. “But I think it's worth the confusion. For a little while, I thought you did too.”

Draco swallowed heavily, his adam's apple bobbing and snagging Harry's gaze. He wanted to kiss down that neck, but he'd never had the chance, maybe he never would now. He swallowed in response.

“I have to go,” Draco said abruptly, standing up.

“I'm sorry,” Harry blurted out before he could leave. Draco stopped, his back to Harry, his head hanging, seemingly too heavy for his neck.

“So am I,” he said simply, before taking his drink and striding from the shop.

Harry didn't know what to think. On one hand, they hadn't slung insults, hexes or fists at each other, but they hadn't really talked either. Nothing had been resolved, but at least it seemed a possibility now.

Harry tossed back half his drink and sat, looking out the window once more, though in a much more optimistic mood.

**  
_January 28th_  
**

Draco paced up and down the sidewalk, feeling as nervous and wired as he'd ever been, as far as he could remember. On the other hand, it wasn't often he sat in a far too cushy chair in some stuffy coffee shop for hours, waiting for someone who clearly hadn't intended to show. Not that day, anyway.

It didn't help that he'd downed four mochas while he'd been waiting. Perhaps that was what had prompted him to walk, ever more agitatedly, to Harry's house. Or the adjacent block, anyway. He'd yet to gather up the courage, or gluttony for punishment as the case may be, to continue down the road to knock on Harry's door.

Would Harry even let him in if he did? Would he slam the door in Draco's face, or gesture him inside? Draco was finally able to admit that he had perhaps over reacted to Harry's deception. After all, Harry had feared his reaction, and he'd made it obvious that Harry was right to fear it. They way he'd lost his mind, the things he had said. Draco ran a nervous hand through his hair, grateful once again for the charm which kept it flawlessly in place. It was something he'd have to teach Harry, since Harry's bad habit had rubbed off on him so thoroughly.

With one long, deep breath, Draco turned and headed straight for Harry's door, ignoring the bustle of the street. He couldn't afford to get distracted now, not now when he was so close.

Before he knew it, he was knocking sharply on Harry's door, hoping that he was home, and in a good mood. The door soon opened, revealing a rumpled and shocked Harry Potter, who looked, to Draco's recalcitrant heart, like heaven.

*

“Draco,” Harry said, gripping the door knob so hard his knuckles were white. “What are you doing here?”

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Draco said, his face once more in that mysterious Malfoy mask, though his eyes were soft, even hopeful.

“No, it was my fault, uh,” Harry stammered. “I'm the one who should be apolo...” Draco interrupted him.

“Given my reaction, I'd say your fears were justified,” Draco said, shifting from one foot to the other. Harry could do nothing but stare at him in shock.

“May I come in?” Draco asked politely. Harry waved him in, stumbling in his haste to give Draco some room. He fumbled with the latch as he closed the door, the shock having faded into nervousness.

“Would you like some...tea?” Harry asked as he followed Draco to the sitting room.

“No, I've...I'm fine, thanks,” Draco replied, circling the room as if to reorient himself in the space. Harry stood at the door and watched him, stomach a mass of nerves.

“Okay,” Harry said.

“Do you,” Draco began, pulling out and reorganizing a few of Harry's books. “I was hoping I'd get to see you.”

“You...oh,” Harry said as Draco finished shelving the books and moved on to straightening a nearby stack of Quidditch Monthlys. Harry closed his eyes for a moment...Draco actions were far too close to what Harry had been wishing for, since before they had lost the baby. That comfortable intimacy they'd been developing, that was all whisked away because of one foolish decision. “You were at the coffee shop?”

“Yes,” Draco said, now perching himself on the edge of the sofa, looking at Harry and quirking a brow at him. Harry pushed off the door frame and joined Draco on the sofa, perched just as precariously.

“Do you think we...”

“Would it be...”

“Oh, uh...” Harry stuttered. “You. Uh, why don't you go first?”

“Alright,” Draco said, shifting even further to the edge of the cushion. “Would it be okay...can we maybe start over?”

Harry's eyes widened. “I guess, I...sure,” he bit out, too floored to be more eloquent. Draco must have read his mind. Was he thinking the same as Harry was?

“Really? Harry asked, even though he wasn't quite sure what he was asking.

“If you want to,” Draco said simply.

“I, uh...I'd like that,” Harry said, his grin wide and bright once more. To his surprise, Draco smiled back.

“Eloquent as ever, Harry.” Draco's smile had morphed into a smirk. A rather sexy smirk, the sight of which made Harry's pulse race.

Suddenly they seemed very close, and Draco was leaning even closer, one hand braced on the cushion behind Harry's arse.

“Are you gonna-” Harry began, but Draco cut him off with a kiss. After sucking on Harry's bottom lip for an blessed eternity, he pulled back.

“I think we're better off without words, don't you?” Draco drawled, leaning in for another kiss, one that lasted a lot longer, sweet and wet and filled with promise.

Harry tasted some of that promise when Draco's tongue lapped at his lower lip. Harry opened against the pressure, sending his own tongue searching in response. The kiss turned passionate in an instant, soon Draco's hand crept up to cup Harry's neck, while the other slipped up Harry's back and into his hair. Harry's arms came up as well, gaining a firm grip on Draco's strong shoulders, allowing Draco to lay him back on the couch with ease.

Harry slid into a whole new level of sensation, a world populated only by Draco, his smell, his voice, his hand grazing over Harry's skin, occasionally brushing his erection teasingly. Their shirts came off while Draco knelt over Harry, leaning down to kiss him, licking a path down his chest as soon as their shirts were free.

Next their belts were unbuckled and Harry felt Draco's strong hand gripping his cock surely and manipulating his foreskin, removing what had remained of Harry's wits and with it his ability to unfasten Draco's trousers.

Instead of letting go of Harry's cock to finish the job, Draco pressed their groins together. The sudden friction of Draco's clothed erection against his bare one was almost enough to make Harry come.

Not quite enough, however, and the spell was broken the next second by the tapping of a sharp beak on Harry's sitting room window.

“Owl post now?” Harry groaned, thumping his head on the arm of the sofa.

“That's Athena!” Draco shouted, untangling himself from Harry's grasping arms and stumbling to the window.

“Draco, can't we just leave it for now? Just for a few minutes?” Harry asked in a plaintive tone.

“Harry, you don't understand,” Draco replied, fumbling the latch in his haste. “Astoria was only to send Athena when it's time!” He let the owl in, quickly liberated the scroll and read it ravenously.

“Time?” Harry asked, panting heavily.

“Time!” Draco exclaimed, waving his arms frantically. “Time for Astoria to have the baby.”

What? Is it...” Harry trailed off, amazed at how quickly the months had passed by, since there was no reason to count them anymore. It was nearly Valentine's Day, a day he had once thought would herald the arrival of his child. Their child.

That child was gone, but the one created by Draco and Astoria wasn't. And apparently, it was ready for an early entrance.

“I've got to go, I'm having a baby!” Draco's eyes were wide and frantic.

“More like Astoria's having a baby and you're having a seizure,” Harry said, watching Draco searching for his shirt like a noseless Niffler snuffing for gold. He plucked it from the floor where it had fallen and tossed it at Draco, then pulled up his jeans.

“How, uh...how are you and Astoria doing, anyway?” Harry asked, attempting, and failing, to be casual.

“Right, I was going to tell you,” Draco said, fastening his trousers over well fitted briefs that Harry wanted desperately to see. A pang of disappointment spread through his chest. Draco put his shirt on next, and the feeling spread.

“We've decided to claim a formal separation,” Draco was saying, snapping Harry's head back to reality. He was tucking in his shirt, but Harry was sufficiently distracted.

“What...what does that mean?” Harry asked, brow furrowed now for a brand new reason.

“It means, now that we're about to meet the heir,” Draco said, and Harry wondered if he was aware that his voice turned extra snooty while saying that. Unlikely. “We can both see other people, informally of course,” Draco continued. “We won't have to hide away though, and one day we'll be ready to take the next step.”

“But what does that mean?” Harry asked again, stopping Draco in his tracks. He staring blankly at Harry, shaking his head. “For us,” Harry said quietly.

“It means, I'd like to see you again. On purpose,” Draco replied, his face open for the first time in Harry's memory. “With no other reason except that I want to.”

“That's...yeah,” Harry said, the ache in his chest blossoming into something else entirely. “I want to see you too.”

“Alright then,” Draco said, pulling on socks and shoes quickly. “Do you want to come?”

“Time's past for that, I think,” Harry said with a snort.

“That's not what I...” Draco trailed off, staring at Harry in utter amazement. It quickly morphed to amusement though, and Draco threw back his head and laughed.

“You never cease to surprise me, Harry,” Draco said, drawing close enough to pull Harry into his arms. “But I was asking if you want to come home with me. To meet the baby,” he added.

“I don't want to be in the way,” Harry said, terrified and excited by the idea.

“Astoria would love to see you,” Draco said, kissing Draco softly. “This was mostly her idea, you know.”

“This? What was her idea?” Harry leaned into Draco fully, laying his head on Draco's shoulder. He breathed in deeply. Draco smelled like happiness.

“She has been telling me for months that I should come grovel at your feet.”

“Oh.”

“She was right, I should have done this months ago. I don't know why I held onto the anger as long as I did.” Draco smiled gently at Harry, brushing back a bunch of messy hair.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said quietly.

Draco leaned in and kissed him again. “I'm sorry too. Now come be with us when our baby is born. We'd resigned ourselves to parenting with you. You wouldn't want to ruin all our plans, would you?”

“No, we wouldn't want that,” Harry drawled in an imitation of Draco. He kissed Draco, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck and giving himself up to the kiss.

Draco broke them apart far too quickly for Harry's pleasure, but there were other, more important things they had to tend to.

“Let's save this for later, shall we?” Draco said, smiling at Harry in such a natural, open way that Harry's heart clenched in joy. “It's time we had a baby.”


End file.
